Till death do us part: The 29th Hunger Games
by Irisismyname
Summary: What happened in the 29th Hunger games? Slowly but surely making progress. Rated T for violence and some swearing. hehe.
1. The intro

**Welcome back to another chapter of "Till Death Do Us Part: The 29th Hunger Games"! This is just a preview of the hell (did I say hell? I meant arena) I am currently planning for your tributes. Isn't that simply wonderful? President White is my OC, based on me, before Snow came around and killed all his opponents. Rilanna Remark belongs to XxUndercoverflowerpolicexX, the Hunger games world belogns to Suzanne Collins, and President Iris White is supposed to be me.**

President White stepped out on the top balcony of the presidential mansion, the cameras fixed on her. She wore a crisp white buisness suit with her dark brown hair in a braided low bun. All of Panem would be watching now, waiting for her verdict. An avox handed her the original letter written 29 years ago, at the end of the Dark Days, and she began to read the story of the Dark Days and the revolution.

"As a punishment, each district must send one boy and girl to train in the art of survival, and be placed into an arena, in a fight to the death." She handed the letter back and cleared her voice. "Today is a historical day that will live on in human history for centuries. You may wonder why I address the public personally, but I am here to tell you that our traditional feast in the arena, where the tributes will meet at a table where the supplies they need to survive, will be slightly changed. Instead of one, there will be two tables, and the tributes must choose which table they wish to risk going to, because only one holds their pack. Happy hunger games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

A silence overcame the districts. What would this mean for their children?

President White back away, and the cameras stayed focused on the balcony, waiting for something to happen.

The head gamemaker stepped out and spoke in the microphone, lacking the Captiol accent."Hello, Panem! As you know, I am Alexander Hastings, your head gamemaker and former resident of District 7. I have some news! Our traditional host of the Hunger Games, Caesar Flickerman has been struck ill by a lung disease, and won't be able to return until next year. As a result, we have a replacement host, Mr. Flickerman's neice, Rilanna Remark. She will be doing the interviews for us, kindly, so let's give a round of applause for Rilanna!"

The Capitol cheered wildly and a wave of applause drowned the sound of Alexander's voice. "Now, why don't we have a little interview of her?" More people yelled in support, and the gamemaker begun asking questions.

"Hello, Rilanna. How are you liking the Capitol life?"

A sharp click came over the loudspeaker, and Rilanna's voice was projected over the Capitol and Panem. "I love it, Mr. Hasting! The city is full of energy and beautiful people. The food, the culture, the fashions, everything about the Capitol is simply _perfect._"

"That's wonderful!" He bit on his lip to conceal a smirk. _The people here are such fools. They think they're beautiful and smart, when they don't even know how sick and twisted they are, he thought to himself. _"Now, Rilanna, do you think you have the experience to take on the difficult task of being the host?"

"Of course, I _was_ trained by the best, and the best is Caesar, as everyone knows!"

"You must be very proud of your job, Miss Remark. How did you react to being chosen to become host?"

"At first, I was shocked. I never thought I'd have this wonderful opportunity to actually participate inthe 29th Hunger Games. It's an honor to be here, in the Capitol."

_If she knew what the tributes go through, she wouldn't dare thinking about being in the Hunger Games, he wanted to say, _but kept quiet.

"And there, folks, is your new host of the official 29th Hunger Games! Tune in tommorow on your television for the fannnnntastic reapings!" People could be heard all over the Capitol, smiling, laughing, and cheering, as if nothing was wrong at all.

The Capitol anthem played and the presidential seal flashed in the sky.

The Games had begun.

**By the way...I have the whole arena planned out, and bits of the story, so send more tributes if you want the reapings sooner. I have 6 people now on my list of possible winners. You could be one of them.**

**Yup, I'm doing pretty well :)**


	2. District 1 Reaping

**I've planned out the exposition to the Games, and here it is:**

1. Reapings and goodbyes (12 seperate chapters for each district)  
2. Train ride to the Capitol  
3. Chariots  
4. Training  
5. Lunch at the training center  
6. Training scores  
7. Interviews  
8. The night before the Games

**After that, they enter the arena, I have to kill your lovely tributes :(  
Here are the district 1 reapings. Enjoy. jakey121 owns Dustin Shackles. pinkwataah owns Annabelle Winters. I own nothing, and Suzanne Collins owns all.**

_-Dustin Shackles- 15 years old_

The minute I got up, I knew this was my day.

This is what I was trained to do. Win the Games.

Focus. That was what I needed right now.

"Dustin! Breakfast time!" I rolled my eyes, good-naturedly, and walked down the steps of our mansion.

"I'm coming, Rose!" The smell of frying eggs downstairs lured me down, and I peeked into the kitchen, where our housekeeper, Rose, was working.

"I made scrambled eggs, hot chocolate, and orange slices for you, so you better be hungry." My mouth started watering somewhere between the chocolate and oranges, and I was _definently_ hungry.

"Oh yeah, I better be full for today's adventure." I winked at her, and she brought the platters of food to the dining room. There, Mom and Dad were already eating breakfast. They both had an extra dark coffee that made my eyes water because of that bitter stench. How could they drink something so foul-tasting?

"Well, are we training today?" I asked Dad.

"No, I think we should all take a break today,' he replied, casually.

"What?" Mom yelled. "How do you expect him to win the games if he's not trainings?"

"Trixie, calm down," Dad assured Mom. "One day won't change anything."

"Fine," she grumbled. I was worried about her. Two years ago, I ran away because she was always hitting me and telling me to train more. It was overwhelming. There were many thigns I couldn't do, and that was one of them. But they found me. The peackeepers did. They dragged me all the way back, made me apologize, and made sure my mom never abused me again. Dad acted like it never happened. But Mom...she held grudges. She acts like she loves me when other people come over, but I know that deep inside, theres something dark about her.

I dug into my breakfast, and quickly drank my hot chocolate. Which was not exactly the smartest move I've made. The brown liquid burned my tongue, I grabbed Dad's orange juice, and chugged it down to cool off my burning mouth. He didn't even notice.

Mom glared at me and slapped my wrist. "Manners, Dustin. Have you learned nothing?"

I looked away. Irritated. She seriously thought table manners would help me win the Games.

I excused myself and walked upstairs to my room. Rose was already there, and laying out a white collared shirt with a light gray vest and matching pants. "Thanks, Rose."

"You're welcome." She walked out of the room and flashed a smile to me. I changed into the reaping clothes, and deicded what to do with my spiky dark blond hair. Oh well. I guess I would just comb it and leave it the way it was.

I look into the mirror, and smiled. The gray of the vest makes my eyes even bluer than they're supposed to be.

I walk back downstairs, and my parents were getting ready to leave. I nod and wave to them. "I'll go early. I'll see you on the stage!"

I walked down the street, to the square. Usually, there are only a couple people around, but now, the streets are flooded with people making their way to the town square, where the reapings will be held.

The sun shines, the birds sing, this will be a good day.

_-Annabelle Winters- 16 years old_

I peek out the window of my bedroom and flash hand symbols to the young girl below.

_How are you?_, I ask in our secret code.

_I'm fine_, she says back.

I smile. She's doing well. That's all that matters. I'm about to go back to the window, when Daddy comes into the room.

"Anna, sweetheart? Why haven't you changed yet? The reaping will be in an hour," he says to me. He's already dressed, and Mum is probably ready to go too. He's the mayor, so we always have to go early so he can read the Treaty of Treason to our district, on reaping day.

"It's okay, daddy, I can change by myself." I pushed him out, and kissed his cheek. "I can find my way by myself too. You go without me."

I closed the door and locked it. I looked out the window. Darn. She had already left, probably for the reaping. I might as well wear something nice, as I have a wide variety of things to wear.

I opened my closet, and chose one out the fifty in there. It was my favorite. A simple pearl white chiffon evening gown that ended at my ankles. I walked to the front door of the house, and slipped on flats covered with smooth, silky, white satin. About my hair, I put it over my shoulder and loose, the way I liked it.

Down the street, most people were already at the square, in their age sections. The peacekeepers checked my ID, and I went to the girl's section, the 16 year olds. I searched through the crowds for her. I scanned the 12-year olds, and she was there. she was wearing a green lace dress and had her hair braided. The old lady down the street probably gave her the dress, and she could have done the braids for her too. She had just turned 12 last week, and against Daddy's wishes, I went over and brought her a cake and a bracelet.

It makes me think about what would happen if she were chosen. _No, that's impossible, _I think to myself._ She only has two slips, one required, and the other to survive in the woods. _I feel relieved, knowing that the chances of her being chosen are slim. But just as my relief comes, the reapings starts.

_-Dustin Shackles-_

I waited for the jerk to hurry up; she was droning on and on about the Dark Days, and how evil we were. Who cares? It's history now.

Dad is up on the stage drinking more coffee with the mayor, some old balding guy that supposed to have a daughter my age.

Finally, the escort walks over to the glass bowl. Dad always called it the fish bowl, because he thought it looked like one. "Now, since we always start with the ladies, why don't we flip it around a little?" She says. She dips her left hand in and plucks one. The air is still with fear and silence, although many of us in the crowd are careers, waiting to be chosen.

"Marcus Reid." A cry calls out fromt he crowds, and several people break into tears. Perfect.

"I volunteer!" I yell. I shove my way through the crowd, and another boy is about to volunteer, but trips while pushing other people. I make it there first. Perfect.

"Now, sir, what is your name?" the escort asks me.

"Dustin Shackles," I reply, confidently.

"Shackles...I bet you're Temple Shackles's son!" I face the audience, wordlessly, and they know. The resemblance is uncanny.

"Well, congratulations, Dustin! Now, time for the ladies." She teeters over to the girl's bowl on her high heels, and carefully picks one slip." She smiles as if she knows something, and reads the name.

"Rosalind Waters."

_-Annabelle Winters-_

The very words make me think of something. An old memory. I was thirteen, and loved exploring the forest. Daddy always said no, and tried to get angry at me whenever I strayed out, but he couldn't. He loved me too much. That day, I heard a crack of a twig, and was terrified that something was going to jump out at me. I turned around, and there was a bedraggled girl wearing rags at my feet. She was begging for me to save her, and it was easy to tell she was starving. Her protruding ribs showed enough. I was so lonely those days. None of the other rich girls liked me because I wasn't a career, like them. They were conceited and blond with blue eyes. They came from rich families and the children of victors. I wasn't like them, and I was a loner at the time. I befriended girl in the woods, she told me she was from district 12 but ran away because her brother was poaching in the woods, and they killed her and her family. She had no name, so I named her Rosalind, a name I always wanted. She was my friend, but Daddy didn't understand that, he never could, the way I interpreted the world. I understood that my meaning in life was to protect Rosalind, my only friend, at any cost. But I had never thought it would end this way.

I came back into reality, and Rosalind was already half up the stage, with tears streaming down her face. It's now or never.

"I volunteer," I said weakly. I marched myself up the steps, as hundreds of people watch in horror.

"No, Annabelle!" Daddy yells, and blocks the entrance to the stage. I'm impervious to his pleas, until he kneels over and puts head on my feet. "Please. Please go back."

"No," I say coldly, in a tone I never knew I had. I push him aside and refuse to meet his eyes. It's over now.

He begins crying, so the escort quickly finishes the reaping and takes us into the justice building. But it doesn't matter anymore. It's all over.

-_Dustin-_

I had no idea what was up with the mayor; apparently the girl that volunteered was his daughter. He seriously broke down and started sobbing all over the stage, while everyone stared.

When Dad came to visit, he marched straight toward me, and pushed me against the wall.

"You will win. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I gulped and he put a disk-like object into my hand. "This was my token. It's yours now."

"I promise I'll win and make you proud, Dad."

He pats my back nods. The token is a coin with the words, "victor", stamped on it. "That's my boy."

But I don't hear him, because my mind is already on the Games. This was my year.

_-Annabelle Waters-_

When Daddy came, he wasn't crying anymore. Mum was with him, and he threw her arms around me.

"Oh, my baby! My poor baby!" she starts crying, and I let her touch me. She smells like lavender.

"Here, take this, you need it with you to remember us." She takes the clip holding up her out, and her hair falls limply around her shoulders. It's a clip shaped like a daisy. She puts it in my hair, and kisses my forehead.

"Please, win. For all of us. At least try." I smile, and reply softly.

"I'll try."

It feels bad to lie to her, but thats what the Games are about anyway, deceit and trickery. It was just a big show.


	3. District 2 Reaping

**Hullo, my readers. I loved all your reviews, because there is no better way to tell an author you love their story than a review. This won't be as long, because the first reaping had a very confusing background, and I had to explain it all. Rowan Fightheart is owned by calico101, and Rhymer Wellwood is owned by Awesomenesssss. (Hard to remember.) I am eating mentoes while writing this and the caps lock on my keyboard is broken, so writing this is practically impossible.**

_-Rowan Lockheart- 17 years old_

When I don't have enough energy to train, I imagine I am slaughtering a dozen tributes. That works me up.

My long-sword plants itself into the stuffed peacekeeper dummy, nearly tearing the training dummy's head off. I smile, satisfied.

"Again." Dad always knows best. I must be in a really bad shape if he's woken me up at daybreak to train, even on reaping day. He is a victor, after all. Well, actually, we train everyday. I swing my sword with full force and slice the dummy into two.

"Good. Now do it again ten more times and be at the reaping by 10!" he barks at me. I reposition my body. I have to get this just right. I slash the dummy twice, punch and kick it, and it breaks into splinters.

Just nine more times now.

Other people tell me I train too much, I'm too focused in the Games.

Fools. Thats all they are. They don't understand how important winning is to me. They never will.

Thinking other people talking about me behind my back brings new rage, and I sever the next dummy's head with ease.

The clock on the wall of the basement training room beeps, and time's up.

It's nearly a quarter to ten, and I haven't even gotten through five dummys. I'm such a failure. No wonder Mom and Dad are always pushing me to train more. They were both victors, and won within five days. If only I could live up to their standards.

I drop my sword on the floor of the training room, and head upstairs. I have to go now, or I'll miss my chance. The only one I'll get.

_-Rhymer Wellwood-17 years old_

One the best parts about being mayor's daughter is that I don't have to clean my own room. A maid does that for us. That was good, because the reaping was starting in ten minutes, my room was a mess, and I hadn't even changed into something acceptable for the reaping.

"Rhymer!" called out my sister, Delphi. "Hurry! We're leaving!"

"Fine!" I yelled back. "I'll be there in a sec!"

If you're wondering why I'm so late for the reaping, blame my brothers. We were all in line for the bathroom, and I just happened to wake up later than them. If I'm publicly shot for being late to the reaping, I'll kill them first.

I blindly pulled out a dress from my drawer and slipped right into it without a second thought. Charging downstairs, Delphi was already halfway out the door. My parents, my brothers, and my sisters were all probably at the reaping. Delphi yanked my elbow and half dragged, half pulled, me across the square.

"Hurry! We'll be late in a second!" The wind blew my hair into my eyes, and I brushed it to the side with my free arm.

The town square was loaded with hundreds of people, and even more were in line for identification checks.

Delphi went onto a seperate line than mine, and I charged towards the square. A peacekeeper chased me and grabbed my shoulder. "Why are you running?" he asked rudely.

"Because if I'm late, I'll be shot on the spot?" I snapped at him. I was so stressed I forgot to make a fake smile and have a polite tone, like I did with all the district officials.

"You were trying to run away, weren't you?" He stupidly smirked, like all people his standard did when they thought they did something right. I hated all of them.

"If I was running away, wouldn't I do something smarter than go towards the square, where I'm supposed to be?"

He sniffed sharply like I smelled bad. I hated him already. "Fine, but next time, walk."

I dashed away, irritated, and went back into line. The man checked my ID, and I got into the 17-year old girl's section.

Up there, the escort, Malody, was already begun. She was wearing an atrocious powdered purple wig decorated with hot pink ribbons, at least half her own height. Her nails were freakish looking, at least three times longer than they should be and painted with rainbow colors. Those Capitol people sure knew how to make the districts laugh at them.

"Welcome to the 29th annual Hunger Games!" she squeaked in her super-high voice. I used to think as a child that they had used surgery to change their voices as well, but I shockingly found out that their voices were real and Capitol technology wasn't _that_ advanced. Wow.

"Now, why don't we skip ahead straight to the reaping! What fun!" she smiled fakely and walked over to the girl's bowl.

Up on the stage were the six living victors of district 2, eating breakfast and drinking wine. Two female, four male. The female victors were 34 and 16. The male victors were 39, 32, 28, and the youngest was 20, I think. He was a peacekeeper's son. The only time I've ever spoken to him was when we were having dinner at his house for his birthday so many years ago. He was 9 and I was 6. He wore a crown made of real solid gold on his head and offered me a slice of cake. I said yes, and he later asked me if he could kiss me. I said yes again and he gave me a kiss on the cheek. He blushed red and he said he liked me. His dad died several months later and I never saw him again, until he was reaped for the 24th hunger games and won, but only on television.

Malody picks one slip and unfolds it. "Rhymer Wellwood."

When I was six, I was diagnosed with ADHD. My mom told me that it was a disease where I couldn't focus on one thing at a time, and would have impulsive decisions. I didn't think about it much, until I was ten and started to completely zone out. I would lose all control of body, and feel like time's stopped, although its still going on around me.

Thats how I felt when I was reaped. But this time, it was a horrible, sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.

_Was I...just reaped?_

No. I probably was just imagining things, like I always was.

Unfortunately, thats when I returned to consciousness.

The crowd of girls had parted around me, and everyone was staring.

Waiting.

I was screwed.

_-Rowan Lockheart_-

Everyone was staring at something, and I was determined to see what it was. I shoved down a boy's head and looked over a crowd. Apparently, it was some blondie who had been reaped and was doing nothing. The peacekeepers escorted her to the stage while she looked comepletely stupified all the way up. One she was on the stage, she muttered her name so quietly that no one could hear it. Her name was Lymer, or something like that.

After they finished their buisness with her, the escort scooted over to the boy's bowl and reached in. Dad gave me the look, that signaled that now was the right time.

"I volunteer!" someone in the 18-year olds section yelled out just a nanosecond before me.

"No, I volunteer!" I ran up through the crowd, shoving the people in my way, and punched the boy who called volunteer before me in the jaw. It make a sickening cracking noise and he crumpled over, while I charged straight torwards the stage.

The escort looked uneasy, like I would strangle her. I could do enough strangling in the games. I just needed to get in now. "My name is Rowan Fightheart. Now shut up and finish the reaping!"

"Well, what an interesting day! Thank you for attending the reapings, and have a good day!" She chuckled nervously and peacekeepers walked up the stage, to escort us to the justice building. Good. I had enough with people today.

_-Rhymer Wellwood-_

"Rhymer!" My sisters ran to me, and we had a group hug. Then my parents and brothers joined in, and I thought I was being strangled. It was okay though, because this might be the last hug I share with my family.

Mom was weeping uncontrollably, Dad was telling me interview strategies, my brothers were telling me arena strategies, my sisters were telling me what to wear for the chariots and giving more hugs. In one word, it was chaos.

Theta, my eldest sister, pulled something off her neck, and put it in my palm. It was a silver ellipsoid locket with a small photograph of our family in it. The perfect gift to a person you won't see for a long time.

I hope.

_-Rowan Lockheart_-

As soon as they entered the goodbyes room, Mom and Dad started reviewing strategies with me. I would make an alliance with the best tributes, then pick them off slowly. I would be a ruthless killing machine at the interviews. No mercy. No mercy.

"Do you still have your coin?" I flipped the coin out of my pocket, and showed it to Mom.

"Good," she continued. "It's lucky. You're bound to win if you have that coin."

"I don't need it. I'll win anyway."I handed it back to her, but she pushed it back to me.

"No. It'll be a little memory of us until you win and come back."

"I will win. We're the Lockhearts, and winning is in our blood."

I smiled, triumphantly, and read the letters on the coin. "Victory is short, but legend is forever" There was a picture of our family crest, an eagle showing it's talons holding a sword.

I was a Lockheart, and I would live up to my parent's standard. Just like the coin said.


	4. District 3 Reaping

**Welcome, welcome, to another chapter of "Till death do us part: The 29th Hunger Games." I hope you liked the last chapter, as I work very hard on each of them, to portray each tribute perfectly. This one is just as promising as the others, I swear by it, on the honor of President Iris White. Lulu347 owns Nilo Laurence. Clivia Muse is owned by Kat Mellark. My keyboard completely smashed in half, after my Caps lock key broke, so I had to wait and get a new one. SORRY! I'll do reapings for 4, 5, and 6 today. This is the longest reaping I've written so far.**

_-Nilo Laurence- 15 years old_

I yelled in pain as the hot wires charred my hand.

_Stupid damned wires, _I thought to myself.

"Hey, you okay?" asked Tray. He took his safety goggles off and peered at my hand. "It doesn't look too bad. Run it under cold water."

"I'm fine, but if you say so." I walked over to the laboratory sink, and doused it in cool water. Immediate coolness soothed my hand, and I sighed in relief.

"I told you so." He smiled and went back to working on dissecting the mine.

You probably are thinking, "What? What are 15-year olds doing with explosive mines?"

Well, I'll tell you.

My name is Nilo Laurence, and my mom died giving birth to me 15 years ago. I was born sickly and premature, which is probably why I'm the shortest kid in my year at school, and my mom just wasn't strong enough to survive. Ever since, my Dad has become completely unresponsive to me. All he does is lie in bed and stare at the ceiling, mumbling my mom's name, while I work to keep us both alive.

I hate him.

He's the reason why I spend all day after school breaking apart mines and collecting scrap metal that no one else bothers to, and sell the parts to the factories in the district for an unfairly cheap price to just keep myself alive.

I met Tray in my year at school, everyone got into groups for defense against others, and I ended up with the nerds. I guess it wasn't the worst thing that could happen in my life, because he ended up becoming my best friend. He was the son of a district official, and never went hungry once in his life. He spends all day with me, helping me earn money, and letting me borrow clothes from him.

He was my only friend, and the only person who ever listened to me.

"What time is it?" I asked him.

"It's almost 11:30," he replied.

"Crap! It's almost reaping time!" I dropped the wires on the counter, and went upstairs from the basement lab.

I heard dad snoring on the couch, and didn't bother to wake him up. He wasn't worth it.

I got upstairs, and laid on my old bed, was a paper package tied with twine. I tore it open, and inside was a suit, black on black, even with a tie. I quickly dressed into it looked out the window. People were still in the streets, so that meant I had time. I couldn't figure out how to put on the tie, so I stuffed it into my trouser pocket. I smoothened my hair with a little water from the sink, and headed out. It was barely drizzling outside; not good weather for reapings and expensive clothes.

I walked down the square. Hundreds of people were assembling for the reaping. Well, it wasn't like they had a choice. A peacekeeper checked my ID in her book, then I walked to the 15-year old boy's section, where Tray was waving to me.

I was still early. Good.

_-Clivia Muse- 13 years old_

"Ow!" I screamed. "Please, not so hard."

"I can't!" she growled. "Your hair is just so messy!"

She pulled the brush out and looked at the tangled mess of hair she had created.

"I'll have to cut it. Theres no other way." I grasped my hair protectively and pulled away from her.

"You can't cut it! I've been working hard to grow it!" I stroked my hair, and felt the lump of tangles at the ends.

"Well, I won't let you outside looking like that!" Mom frowned and took my hand. "I'll wash it and see if theres any hope."

This is what reaping day is like for me every year. My hair in a mess, Mom going crazy over it, and my Dad trying to ignore my pleas of help.

I've been trying to convince my parents to let me grow it for just another year. It wasn't much, and I thought they would approve of it.

Mom put my head into the sink and began to vigorously rub my hair with water and shampoo. She rinsed it off, rubbed it with a towel, began working at my hair again.

The knot was gone, but it was still messy looking. She began to comb it through, and braided it over my right shoulder.

She pulled a dress out of her own special storage and pushed it against my chest. "Take it."

I hesitantly touched it. It was dyed sky blue and made of smooth cotton. It was beautiful. "Thank you."

I dressed into it, and went outside. A light rain was pattering on the cobblestones, and the sky was lined with gray storm clouds.

I walked down to the square, where people were assembling. I waited in line, had my ID checked, and went to the 15-year old girl's section.

There, the escort, Silva, walked up to the microphone and greeted up cheerily. This year, she had her long and curly hair dyed golden, that was drooping in the rain, and wore a white fur coat. It looked warm. I wished I wore something warm. The rain was now beating hard on the ground, and on my shoulders. Thunder was booming softly in the distance, probably raining in another district too.

"Hello, district 3! What are wonderful day! Why don't we start right now?" she backed away, and the movie played. It was same one we saw every year, talking about the dark days and how evil and treacherous we were. At the very end, it showed district 13, still smoldering at the surface, and covered with deep rubble.

The mayor stood up and walked up to the microphone, and began reading the story of the dark days, again. When he was done, Silva walked back up and smiled brightly, showing off her perfect teeth. "Hello district 3! It's wonderful to see you again this year. Now, why don't we start with the ladies?"

She walked to the bowl, and dipped her hand in, and pulled up one slip of paper.

At the moment, the only thing you could hear was the thunder booming overhead. I was getting soaked.

Just as she was about to announce the name, the slip of paper blew away in the breeze and she frowned. "Well, we'll have to chose another one now, won't we?"

She reached in again, and I had an icy feeling in my chest. _Please don't be me_, I begged in my head.

Silva read out the name, but the thunder and wind made it impossible to hear. I waited for someone to come onto the stage, but no one did.

"Clivia Muse?" she yelled through the rain. 'Is there a Clivia Muse out there?"

I think I would have falled backwards, if the peackeepers hadn't pushed me forwards.

"No!" I screamed. "There has to be a mistake!" I resisted their grip on my arms and began to run.

They chased after me, and I slipped on the slick ground. When I stood up, there was a splotch of mud on my dress and my hair was messed up. I was crying, over the dress, over the reaping, and just the idea that I'd have to kill other people. The peacekeepers put my hands behind my back, and marched me up the stage. I had a mess of rain and mud on my face and my eyes were puffy with tears. I looked shamefully away from the audience that stared with their cold, icy eyes.

All I wanted to do was disappear.

_-Nilo Laurence-_

She looked at us with hollow eyes, that told us she was already dead, even though the Games hadn't even begun. They were gray, a stormy gray, and met mine.

She was probably 13 or 14. Younger than me. Even though I had no idea who she was, I had a feeling she was looking at me.

The peacekeepers had her hands tied behind her back with rope.

"Well...what an interesting day!" Silva remarked. "Now, how about that lucky gentleman?"

She went to the boy's bowl, and I bit my lip with terror.

_You only have five slips, Nilo. Just five._

She plucked one from the very bottom, and I felt lightheaded.

"Nilo Laurence." I smiled, knowing it wasn't me.

_Yes, its not you, Nilo. _I sighed with relief.

Suddenly, I did a double take and collapsed forward.

I felt like I was choking inside. Like there was a little person inside my neck, choking me.

I keeled over on my knees, and I began gasping for air. "Please...someone...help..."

I felt someone help me up, and I turned to thank them.

It was Tray.

He was crying, and holding me close.

"Nilo..."

He helped me walk up the stage, and the girl tribute, Clivia meets her eyes with mine. She has stormy gray eyes, pale skin, and curly black hair, the usual look for our district. But mine is blonde, and I have blue eyes.

Like my mother.

"Thank you, thank you, everyone! Happy hunger games may the odds be ever in your favor!" People began exiting the square, and peacekeepers took us to the justice building for our goodbyes.

If I even got any.

_-Clivia-_

The peacekeepers escorted me tightly into the building, and into the goodbyes room.

The first to come was my dad.

He was alone.

The peacekeepers untied my bonds, and I ran into his open arms.

I sobbed into his shirt, and he kept a grim and serious face.

"I'm so scared, Daddy. So scared."

"Clivia, sweetheart..." He stroked my messy hair, and held me protectively to his chest. "I've been keeping something from you for a long time."

"Keeping secrets from me?' I whimpered. "What have you kept?"

"Clivia... your mother... she's not completely sane."

"What do you mean?"

"Shes..." He gulped and looked away. "...crazy. I always knew she was. When you were a baby, she tried to kick and choke you. I had to tie her arms so she wouldn't hurt you."

I pulled away and gasped. "Please tell me it not true..." I began to cry into his arms. "Please! Daddy...tell me its not true."

He remained silent, and two peacekeepers entered the room. They pulled him away from me, and I began to sob. It was like the hurting would never end.

I laid on the velvet couches, and cried my eyes out, until I felt a little better about myself. I heard the sound of boys talking in the other room, but it wasn't important. I closed my eyes, and I began to rock myself to sleep on the couch.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Like a cradle.

And before long, I was fast asleep.

_-Nilo-_

I waited in the room for what seemed like hours.

No one came.

I opened the door, and the only people outside were two peacekeepers in white uniforms.

I closed the door, and began to cry into my shirt.

For the second time in my life, I was alone.

**Aww poor Clivia :(. It really broke my heart to write this, but this is what I imagined to happen to her.**


	5. District 4 Reaping

Hi** everyone. This is Iris again. I hope you liked the last chapter, becauase theres many more coming. ThexOdds owns both Mako Dorrel and Brynna "Bryn" Blythe.  
****Also, I changed my penname to Irisismyname. Thats all for now.  
Sorry I couldn't update yesterday; my computer was acting up, it was Mother's day, so I was busy all day long. From now on I will make no more promises because I'll end up breaking them...**

-_Brynna Blythe- 14 years old-_

I tied the belt around the branch and over my legs. I would be here for a while.

At least I was safe up here. I think.

So, what am I doing up in a tree? And belting myself up there?

This morning, I woke up at dawn and sneaked out with an armfull of books to get some peace and reading time. Neither of which I had at home.

Because at home, there were the kids. Five of them. All equally loud.

I think it would be better if I spent the rest of my life in the woods with my books rather than in a home of eight, where everyone was hungry, all the time.

It was like the kids had three stomachs each. The whines and hunger would never end, even with Mom working overtime, Kailyn signing up for eight tesseraes every six months, and me sneaking into the woods to gather dandelions that grew at the edge of the woods, would not silence the cries of hunger in the middle of the night.

Of course, I never went very far into the woods. Only the crazy, desperate people went there. Just a few years ago, I found a three-foot stretch of fence that had came loose from the ground, and I was a bit forced into there, because we needed the food to survive that little stretch of time that was the worst thing that ever happened to me.

It still imprints on my mind today, the sound of my father's voice over my crib.

I began to read the book, and a smiled started to form on my face.

Kailyn said I only ever smiled when I was reading. I guess thats true.

I guess I like reading because it lets me escape from reality, all those open hungry mouths that waited for more.

I flipped to the next page, and I heard a rustle in the bushes. Fear ran up my spine. Was it a peacekeeper?

"Who's out there?" I yelled. Slowly, a small child's head came out from behind the blackberry bush. It was Evadne, my 8-year old sister.

"Evadne? What are you doing here?" I frowned deeply and began to unstrap the belt.

"Mom said you had to get ready for the reaping." She looked at me expectantly with her wide, blue eyes. Blue like mine's and Mom's.

"Alright, I'm coming." I unbelted myself from the tree and climb down with my book under my arm.

When we got home, Mom took me to the bathroom by ourselves and glared at me. I knew what was coming.

"Where, young lady, have you been the past hour?"

I looked around nervously and replied, "I was in the woods."

The creases on her eyebrow deepened even more with worry. "Brynna Blythe, how many times have I told you to stay out of that place? It's dangerous and illegal to be there!"

"I don't know, six times?" I didn't really care, I just wanted to get out of here.

"Do I really have to tell you six times not to go there?" She felt like she was done scolding me, so she went into the kitchen with a disappointed look on her face. I guessed I should change now.

Slowly, I walked up the stairs and the kids were up there, changing into their reaping clothes. Kailyn was helping Kenn put on his jacket. She nodded to me, and went into our mother's room.

"She said you could wear one of her dresses this year," Kailyn said. She clicked the closet light on, and searched through the dusty mess. She brought something out hidden in her arms, and slowly revealed it to me.

It...it was silk. I had never touched silk before. It was only worn by rich district officials, but as soon as I saw it, I knew it was silk. It was made of a semi-transparent material that felt rough to the touch. It was blue-green, and the way the translucent silk overlapped reminded me of ocean waves.

"This belonged to Mom when she and Dad were married." I winced a little when she mentioned Dad. "The material is called chiffon."

I immediately changed into it, and looked into the old, scratched mirror that hung in Mom's room. Kailyn put my hair up in something she would call "a french twist", and put a rusty blue clip into my hair. In that old mirror, was unrecognizable. The blue of the dress brought out the blue hues in my eyes. It made me look more flattering than I thought was possible for me.

"Well, lets go!" I took two of the kid's hands, and Kailyn took three. Mom walked behind us, and began to sing. I was a little suprised; she hadn't done that in many years.

Once we got to the ID checking counter, Kailyn and I separated, and I looked softly at her. "Good luck," I said.

"You too." She nodded, and disappeared into the crowd of people waiting for the reaping.

This year would mean change to all of us, if Kailyn was reaped.

-_Mako Dorrel- 14 years old_

I held the rod tightly in my hands, as the tug on the line increased.

_Wait for it...wait for it..._

As soon as the third tug came on the line, I began to reel in, with all the strength I could muster. This one was a big one.

I reeled in faster and faster, as the fish began to pull tighter and tigher. All I had to do was not break the line or let the fish escape.

Slowly, it came closer and closer to me. Come on...

Suddenly, the pull on the line loosened greatly. Something was wrong.

I reeled in the rest of it, and sighed when I saw the end of the line. The fish had escaped with the bait.

I added another bloodworm onto the hood, and casted out the line.

So, today, was not exactly a good day.

I had gone out fishing to avoid the reaping. Maybe this year, I would be lucky enough to get away with it.

A whistle blew behind me, and a gun fired on the beach. I turned around. Peacekeepers. They had found me. Maybe...I could find a weak spot in the forcefield that surrounded the oceans.

When Panem was first established, there was some speculation that district four citizens could escape through the ocean. Therefore, the Captiol built a forcefield five miles out into the ocean that made it impossible for anyone to get in or out using waterways. The only other way was...the trains that the Captiol owned and controlled.

I sighed, and began to row back to shore. Maybe I could make an excuse.

Once I landed back on shore, I waded through the beach. Three peacekeepers pointed their guns at me and told me to head to the reaping. No questions asked. Just to go to the reaping.

Usually, when people tried to escape by sea, they were shot immediately. I must have been lucky. I walked back home, and turned on the hallway light.

"Anyone home?" I yelled into the house. No one. I guess Dad must have already gone to the reaping. I walked up the stairs, and looked through my drawer for something suitable for the reaping. Nothing.

Maybe Dad wouldn't mind if I borrowed one of mine...besides, I would only wear it once, and put it back.

Once I was fully dressed, I walked outside and looked into the sky. It was almost noon, and almost time for the reaping.

Most people had already made it to the square, so the streets and houses were completely empty. It was the perfect setting for a thief to break in.

I checked in at the square, and got into the 14-year old boy's section. There, some of the boys in my year patted my back, and greeted me, while the girl's in the same year whispered as I passed them. Why did they always do that when they saw a guy? It was a little obnoxious, with girls whispering about me in the halls at school. Someone even had the nerve to put me and Sabrina, one of the popular girls in my year together, as if we were a couple. Why would they do that? I don't like her, it's that simple.

_But maybe someone else._

The Capitol woman who came onto the stage was a different one than last year. Our escorts were always changing, I couldn't figure out why. The most shocking thing about her was how normal she looked. Her hair was a light brown with a few dull gold streaks, and her eyes were gray-blue. She wore a sky blue dress with a halter top and blue flats. How could a person from the capitol look so normal? Our escort last year had an orange and and dyed blue skin.

"Hello, district 4! Welcome to the 29th annual hunger games! My name is Esa, I will be your escort this year! I'm glad to meet all thses bright, new faces!" She smiled and I had an odd feeling she was looking at me.

"Now, why don't we get right to those reapings?" She stepped to the girl's bowl, and without warning, pulled out a single slip.

I heard the boys talking around me; everyone was betting that it was a 16-year old girl named Kailyn, who had 52 names in. 52? How could a person have that many slips? Maybe she was one of those desperate careers, who would do anything to earn honor for their family.

"Brynna Blythe."

_-Brynna-_

As soon as I heard the name, I felt a gut-wrenching sensation in my stomach. The 14-year old girls around me parted, and all of Panem was waiting for me to move. I felt the Capitol cameras focus on me.

_Well, Brynna, you'll have to move now, _I said in my mind. But nothing happened.

I took one step, and then another. The squeezing feeling in my stomach made me feel like I was being ripped apart.

Slowly, I inched myself up to the stage, and all eyes were trained on me.

I would not cry. I would not cry. I wouldn't let the Captiol get the best of me.

"Well, congratulations, Brynna, I hope to see you later in ther Games," Esa said to me.

I steadied myself as Esa chose the boy's name. Perhaps it would be a 12-year old, someone it would be easy to kill later.

"Mako Dorrel." I flinched as soon as the name came out.

Why, of all people did it happen to be him?

As he walked up the stage easily, our eyes met. But I looked away uneasily.

Because of something that happened so many years ago, I'm at a weakness for him.

Something truly terrible, when Dad had just abandoned us to marry another woman.

I remember every single detail.

The coldest and cruelest December anyone can remember.

Dad had just left us without any notice.

Mom was heavily pregnant with another child, and we were running out of food.

If we went out into the snow for more than ten minutes, we would freeze to death.

Kailyn was almost eleven, almost able to sign up for tesserae. Almost.

But almost is not good enough in life-death situations.

"Well, why don't we have our tributes shake hands, now?" Mako looked me into the eyes, and all I could think of was the December snow and that cold, cold day. He reached out first, and I took his hand. I pulled away immediately, and turned away from him.

The games were on.

_-Mako Dorrel-_

I knew her, and she didn't want to face it.

Did she not remember that I saved her life? Well, it was six years ago. But she had to remember...

When Dad walked into the goodbyes room, he sat down with me, and we began to talk about the old memories we had together when I was a boy. He worked himself to tears over it, and I almost did too. But then he started talking about Mom, the most sensitive thing he could mention of all.

"She had the sweetest eyes, Mako. Too bad neither you or I had them."

"I'm glad I don't look like her. If I did, I thing I would never be able to live with myself, knowing I was a living likeness of her." He smiled and we shared a hug.

"Try to win for me, please?" I swore I would.

But sometimes, promises have to be broken for all our good.

_-Brynna-_

"It should have been me!" Kailyn yelled. "I should have been reaped!"

"Kailyn, calm down," Mom said.

She put her hand on my shoulder and I saw she was close to tears. "I should have volunteered for you."

"No, Kailyn, you're too important to our family. If I died, it would just mean one less mouth to feed. But if you did, it would mean the rest of us would starve." I assured her. She began crying anyway, and the kdis took turns giving me hugs. Only the oldest ones understood what was happening to me. The youngest had no idea. They were learning, but still didn't know.

I felt Mom take my hand and slide something on my finger. It was a platinum ring. Real platinum, which we could barely afford.

"I was thinking of giving it to you for your birthday. But now seemed the right time." I gave her a hug and told her I loved her.

Because this could be the last hug we could share.

**I will reveal Brynna's story in the arena, but until then, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!**


	6. District 5 Reaping

**Hi, welcome back! Loved all your reviews from the past chapter. I might not be able to update daily, but it's something, riiiiiiiiiiight? ****Every time I write a chapter, they get longer and longer and by the time I get to interviews this will be insanely long...deatils and briefness do not work out together.  
Well, heres the good news: we're almost halfway through the reapings! Isn't that amazing? Can you believe we're this far already?**

**Note to DitzyLightning: You may read this as many times as you wish. I've reread it 13 times already, and just to make changes! I also have to copy people's forms and put them on a word document so I can read it for parts I need out of it to write the reapings, and basically every chapter.**

**RiseOfTheLemming owns Dayni graze. :) I wrote this chapter in a little different format, just to experiment.**

_-Dayni Graze- 14 years old_

The worst part about living in the community home isn't hunger. It isn't the stench, the flies, the screams in the middle of the night, the beatings, or even the cold nights.

It's the lack of hope.

It may sound strange that I'm talking about hope here when there are so many more terrible things in the community home that I could mention. But honestly, the worst has to be the lack of hope.

My name is Dayni Graze, and I am an orphan. I am a 14-year old. I am also a girl. I am widely feared by people in the community home, and I am a lawbreaker and liar.

I can only hope I'll live long enough to finish my story to you.

* * *

When I woke up, I grabbed my knife from the box underneath the floorboards of the tiny hard cot I slept on, and slipped it into my belt.

The building was silent with sleeping people. The perfect time to meet with my "customers."

I slowly creaked open the back door of the community house, and sneaked off into the dark.

I slipped between the dark alleyways and there was a middle-aged balding man with a scar on his lip, waiting for me at the back door of a power factory.

"Any new deals?" he asked me.

"Two pounds of scrap iron for thirty dollars. Take it or leave it." I replied.

"I see that your price is rising. How about twenty-five instead?"

I slipped my knife out of my belt and held it to his stomach, just an inch away from stabbing it. "I said, take it or leave it."

His round eyes focused on the blade of the knife, as if wondering the price of it. Or maybe wondering if he should take the risk. "Fine. I'll take it," he said.

He pushed the knife away from him by the hilt and walked back into the factory.

"Be there by tommorow at dawn at the same place," I growled at him.

"Oh, yes, I'll be sure to be there." He eyed the knife and closed the door behind him.

Another sucessful deal. It was a risky buisness, selling scrap metal, but definently worth, if it meant better clothes, food, and a reputation around here. I never knew when a customer might turn against me, it could be any day, but who really cares?

I slowly tread back to the community home, and popped open the loose floorboard to hide the knife again.

The box was gone.

I looked around desperately. My seventy dollars were in there.

A small boy, probably twelve or eleven was running through the hall of the community home. Clutching something under his arm.

I dashed after him, pushing people out of my way, and once I reached him, I grabbed the back of his tattered shirt and tackled him. He fell over on his back, and I was kneeled over him.

I grabbed the box in his hands, and we wrestled over it. People around us were staring, and I growled at them.

He wouldn't let go, so I kneed him in the stomach and he gasped in pain. I yanked the box out of his hands, and he tried to reach for it again.

I made a fist, and punched his eyebrow, as hard as I could. He curled up and began to cry. Where I had hit him was a bruise.

With my box in my arms, I ran. It was starting to rain outside, and the ground was slick with mud. I didn't care. I ran as fast as I could through the rain, and I felt something wet on my face. Rain. Or tears. I didn't care, and it didn't matter.

I hid behind a row of trash cans in the richer district citizen's neighborhood. The lids of the trashcans sheltered me, and I clicked open the box.

A tiny figure of a porcelain angel began to spin in the center of the box, and a soft lullaby played. I pulled the photograph of my parents holding hands out of the small container inside the box, and looked at them. This was as young as I would ever remember them.

I felt a wetness in my eyes, and I knew I really was crying. I wiped them away and slipped the warm money out of the box, into my palms.

Seventy. Exactly. It was enough to feed a family well for a month. All made off my sales of scrap metal. I extracted thirty out of it, and stashed the rest in my box.

I walked into the square, where shopowners were trying to get people who were at the reaping to buy their wares.

That reminded me. The reaping.

I ran through the puddles of water, to the community home. I opened the back door, and everyone seemed to be staring at me. I bared my teeth at them and they went back to their daily activities. The boy who'd try to steal my box glanced over at me, and I looked away. I didn't want to be reminded of the moment.

Besides...they wouldn't mess with me.

When I first came to the community home, I was twelve years old, and fresh from the orphanage section of the community home. Orphans who are younger than twelve can be adopted. I had been living in the orphanage since I was three, when my parents died of the fever, and no one even dared to think about adopting me. The older kids thought they could harrass and use me to get money, until one boy, who was 15 and his parents abandoned him, tried to kill me. He took a hunting knife out of his pocket and tried to stab me. He missed.

I killed him that day, and stole his knife. His blood stains still won't come out to this day, even with soap and water.

I took the old suitcase out from under my cot and opened it. Inside were beautiful dresses of different materials, ones I could barely afford.

I chose one out, a silky dark gray cotton dress, made of smooth satin. I was a little tight on the waist from wearing it to last year's reaping, but I didn't have any other options.

I pushed my way to the front of the line waiting to use the bathroom. The 17-year old boy in the front yelled at me, so I pulled my knife out and held it under his chin. He shut up, and I went into the bathroom, shared by the hundred people living in the community home.

I quickly changed out, put my windbreaker over it, and headed outside.

The rain had cleared up, but there were several puddles of water. I skipped over them, in a girly way, and it felt odd. When I got to the square, the reaping was beginning. I signed in, and went to my section.

The escort was the same as ever for all my life, a short, frail old woman who wore as much makeup and jewlery as her own body weight. She looked like she would collapse any minute.

She tried to sound cheerful, but ended up coughing and hacking when she spoke. Her voice weakened, so the the mayor offered to do it instead.

He was a young man with green eyes and chestnut hair, called Mr. Trestil. He smiled genuinely and selected one slip out of the boy's bowl.

He unfolded it and read out the name. "Luka Messire."

The boy was already halfway up the stage when the mayor finished his sentence.

No. It was him. The bruise on his brow. The sad, deep look in his eyes. It was the boy who'd tried to steal my box.

He tried to smile, but it ended up looking completely fake, and the mayor walked to the second bowl. He dipped his arm in, and pulled one slip up.

"Dayni Graze."

I clenched my fist and felt for the knife in my belt. It was gone. I had left it in the box.

I closed my eyes, and I slowly walked up the stage. I felt myself drifting away. From reality. From the hell I lived in.

I stared out into the stage, and I heard the mayor speaking into the microphone. The crowd whispering with shock.

It was all just a dream; none of this ever happened. It was just a brief period of my life.

I looked around with my eyes devoid of life, I was looking but not actually seeing anything.

But when we met eyes, the boy tribute and mine, I felt a cold chill run up my spine.

_It was a cold day. A cold, cold, cold day. One of those days that the snow is so heavy that the world is completely silent._

_My mother was leaned over my crib, with a spoon of soup that had gone cold long ago. She ladled it into my mouth and sang. The words are unclear and fuzzy sounding, but I remember the melody._

_The same one in the music box. She looks at me with her full, gray eyes that are filled with the snow and district 5._

It brings me back to life, thinking about this. I realize that the mayor is asking me to shake hands with him. I reach out, and take it. I give it one hard shake, and pull away. It's warm and sweaty, the best kind of handshake.

But secretly, inside, although I may be able to bruise and hit this boy to my pleasure, I truly can't kill him.

What will I do now.

* * *

I laid on the velvet chairs and tried to fall asleep. Maybe if I drifted away, this would all be over.

When I opened my eyes, I was still in the goodbyes room of the justice building.

Slowly, the door creaked open, and a peacekeeper came in. She handed me my box. The one I had left at home. I opened it again, and smelled the warm, damp wood and opened my ears to the soft music.

Who had sent it?

I'm silent about it, yet I know. I know who. The knife and the money have been removed, but the photo and the box are still intact. I clutch it in my arms and try to remember, that lonely little girl in the orphanage, who no one loved nor wanted.

Somehow, I must find her inside me if I want to survive the 29th hunger games.

**As I was writing this, I was so intensely focused on Dayni's background that I almost forgot to write the reaping. Well, I hope I can get the next chapter up soon!**

**And yes... the district 5 boy is a bloodbath, he will be killed by someone else.**

**I had to add sections lines because theres only one tribute; I can't switch tributes when something dramatic happens.**

**Soooo...not my best chapter, but thats because this was a tough one to write. The next will be better.**


	7. District 6 Reaping

**Kat Mellark: No way. I can't even believe you would suggest that... but anyway...no! No Katnisss-Peeta here. I would get mad at you for even thinking about it...but you're too awesome. **

**Windcaster owns Diego Orozco and Anna Bloom. ****We haven't had a funny reaping in a while, so District 6's reaping will be funny.**

***frown* come on, more reviews pleaaaassse? The more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to type. I'm not so motivated right now because only RiseoftheLemming reviewed. Thank you.**

-President Iris White, Ruler of Panem and districts and all the universe :D

* * *

_-Diego Orozco- 16 years old_

The morning air was freezing that day. I don't know, I guess I'm just not a morning person.

I didn't want to be here, but if Anna wanted to meet up with me, hey, anything for a close friend. I could spare a minute.

I hope.

Finally, she came outside from the bottom floor and smiled at me.

"What took you so long?" I asked her.

"Oh, nothing, I just had to do something." She walked behind the side of the small tenement we share and began to climb up the fire escape that reaches up to the roof, which was completely off limits to residents.

The perfect place for a secret meeting.

She grabbed the hand rails of the latter and climbed up so quickly, I could barely keep up with her.

"Hey, wait up!" I yelled. I grabbed the end of her shirt and she began to laugh. I crawled the rest of the way up, and she sat directly above me, blocking my way up.

"Move over, I'm cold," I instructed. She scooted to the right, and I seated myself close to her.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

"I just wanted to come on the roof with you, I guess." I sighed and dangled my feet over the side of the roof, where the sun was beginning to rise.

"I wish I could spend everyday like this," she said. "Climbing and running and being young."

"If you were young forever, you would always be at a risk of being reaped."

"If it wasn't for the Capitol, I could live normally. I could have a happy childhood, get married, have kids, and never worry about the games." Her voice had risen and and something about this discussion felt wrong. We had lived our whole lives side-to-side with the Games, and she never seemed to care until now. Why now, of all times?

"You're pretty when you're mad." I sounded stupid when it came out, but hey, it distracted her.

"If I'm reaped, you'll volunteer to be with me in the games, right?" At first, I couldn't tell if she was being serious or messing with me, but I shrugged my shoulders anyway.

"You know I would." She smiled and turned her body towards the rising sun.

The way the sunlight reflected off her face made her skin shine like gold, and her hazel eyes became moist amber, like caramel. Man...she was beautiful.

I was always meaning to ask her out, but just before I did, my mouth went dry and I forgot what to say.

When we where just being friends and joking around, I was smooth and likeable, but if I tried to take it a step farther, I had no idead what to do or how to approach her.

What would she say if I told her I liked her? What would she do if I tried something romantic?

I guess I didn't want to put our friendship on the line by doing something like that when I could be happy just being her friend.

Anna caught me staring at her face, and slapped my cheek playfully. "What are you staring at, Diego Orozco?"

She began to climb down the fire escape and I looked down at her, wanting her to come up again and come close to me again.

_-Anna Bloom- 16 years old_

Diego was acting pretty weird, but I guess thats how he usually is. When I came home, there was a good smell coming from the dining/kitchen/living room. Since we could only afford one tenement apartment for our entire family, we have to make do with the two rooms we have. One is for sleeping, and the other for our daily activies.

I don't wish I was rich or famous, I like my life the way it is, district 6, Diego, and the smell of dew in the morning.

Mom was taking hot biscuits out of the small oven we had, and as I walked by her, she stuffed one into my mouth.

It was hot and molten at the core, and cruchy and sweet on the outside, the way I liked it.

"Anna." Mom smiled and the deep creases in her face deepened. "Where do you think you're going?"

I leaned on the counter and scratched the back of my neck. "I don't know, changing into reaping clothes?"

"Good, go change quick, because the tenement check this year is earlier than usual," I nodded and went upstairs.

Every year, on the day of the reapings, we had peacekeepers go through every apartment and search for people who had hid to escape the reapings, and every year, the check seemed to come earlier and earlier in the day than normal.

I looked through the few clothes I had and frowned in indecision. What should I wear?

Or more importantly, What do I have to wear left?

_-Diego-_

This day would be great, if only it wasn't for my brothers.

First, we were fighting over the bathroom, then seats at the foldable table we used as a dining table, then over the line for the ID check at the reaping.

I finally got to my section, and once I saw Anna, I waved to her. She was wearing a white blouse and a green skirt. Looking amazing as usual.

On the stage, the mayor clicked the microphone on, and read out loud the Treaty of Treason, declaring the district's submission to the capitol and the start of the hunger games.

Thinking of the Games brought me back to the discussion Anna and I had on the rooftop. What was she thinking now? Her face was straight and emotionless, but I knew there was a hint of fear in her eyes. I knew her too well for her to hide her fear.

After reading the Treaty of Treason, the movie we saw every year played. It reviewed briefly the dark days, the decision to start the games, and showed the same photo of District 13 still smoldering from the toxic bombs dropped almost thirty years earlier.

At least, I think it still was.

Our escort skipped onto the stage and waved cheerfully at us. She rushed through the introduction as she always had done, and went right to picking the tributes.

She bent over the glass bowl and stirred around, taking at least a minute to pick one name, when it should take only ten seconds.

"Just pick one!" someone in the crowd yelled. There was a small wave of snickers and shuffling, but silence fell over us again, eventually.

I silently moved to the right, where Anna was staring at me and holding out her hand across the sections. I took it and she squeezed the color out of it.

"Not so tight," I whispered. Her grasp loosened, but her hands were still covered in a cold sweat.

"Anna Bloom." Anna let go of my hand and suddenly, I was the one in a cold sweat. She walked up to the stage calmly and I was worried I'd throw up.

Finally, I came to my senses and pushed my way through the sections, to reach Anna. "Anna!" I yelled.

She shook her head and my chest ached. It made me think of this morning. The promise. Was she serious about it? I guess I would never know.

_-Anna Bloom-_

I hugged myself and grit my teeth as the wind blew into my eyes. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

"Lets do the young men now!" I closed my eyes and hoped that it would be a 12-year old, someone it would be easy to kill and get rid of.

"I volunteer!" I forced my eyes open to see who the shameless soul who had volunteered was.

"D-Diego?" He was stomping up the stage with a dark, stormy look in his brown eyes. "No! Don't do it, Diego!"

I stood in the way up the stage, trying to bar him from coming up. He pushed past me and I pushed him back, screaming for him to stop.

"Whats your name, young man?" the escort asked.

"Diego Orozco," he said. He held me close to his chest to stop me from screaming curses at him, and I stifled a cry.

"What an interesting day! A volunteer! Now, lets have our two lucky tributes shake hands!" I pulled away, and weakly took his hand.

He held me tight while I began to sob, and three peacekeepers came behind us, seperated us, then took me to the justice building for my goodbyes.

But I didn't need goodbyes. I wouldn't survive very long anyway.

_-Diego-_

I sat down bluntly on the couches in the justice building. They were made of velvet. It was a fuzzy, soft fabric I had never touched once before, but it felt cool against my skin.

"Diego?" My brothers, Drake, Antony, and Edgar all stepped in slowly, with my parents behind them.

"You did the right thing." My mother put her arms around my shoulder and everyone seemed to be giving me encouragement that I had done the right thing. Did they not miss me?

Of course they wouldn't. I was living in a poor family of six, and the last thing they needed was another mouth to feed. They would miss me, but no one back at home would really care. Why did it even matter that they came? To make me feel worse about volunteering in the first place. I sighed and went along with it, I wanted them to think I would love and miss them very much.

"I volunteered for Anna. I wanted to save her." My brothers nodded and I went on. "My last wish will be to save her in the arena."

"Even if it's the last thing you do?" Drake asked.

"It will be the last thing I do."

_-Anna-_

I was not comfortable in the justice building, even with Forest, my brother, with me.

"Wheres my mother?" I demanded. "I have to see her!"

"She fell into hysterics after you were reaped. Dad had to take her home to calm her down."

I began to cry even more, which I almost never did, and Forest stroked my head.

"Anna?" I looked up, scared for what I'd see if I did, and Forest had tears in his eyes too. "I love you."

I clutched him tight to me and my pain subsided. "I do too."

"Who was that boy, that volunteered for you?" I pursed my lips and sat up. My brother was always sensitive about people that came near me, and it applied to every boy that came within a ten-foot radius of me.

"His name is Diego, and he is best friend I could ever have."

He nodded and I fell back into his arms. "I understand. He volunteered to protect you in the arena."

"I didn't want him to."

"I know."

"Forest? Can you keep a secret?" He nodded. "Diego and I went onto the rooftops this morning, and I made him promise he'd volunteer for me if I was reaped."

Forest frowned and looked up. "Why?"

"I-I didn't mean it. I was taking it lightheartedly, but he must have thought I was being serious." This made me feel much, much worse and I curled up on the seat.

"I think I understand now."

A peacekeeper opened the door and told him it was time to go. He stood up, kissed my forehead, and I suddenly remembered something I had to tell him.

"Take care of our parents!" I yelled.

"I will, I swear by it!" The door slammed close, and I curled up on the couch and began to cry.

Because pretty soon, I was going to lose the best friend I could ever have.

**Do you guys like the new review button? Press it right now and write me a review!**


	8. District 7 Reaping

**XxxCloudyxxX owns Juniper Oihane. ****PrincessScissors: Thats exactly what I thought, I was about to say "Diego is stuck in the friend zone" as a note in the end but I wanted you all to figure that out. ****Thank you, everyone who reviewed!**

**Wow, we're already halfway through the reapings. It feels like just yesterday I was wondering whether I should write this story or not...**

_-Juniper Oihane- 17 years old_

As soon as I woke up, I had another cramp.

I turned over in bed, and clutched my stomach like my life depended on it. Maybe herbal tea would help.

I got up, and looked in the mirror on the wall of my house. My light brown hair was a mess; the curls tangled together. Just the worst thing to happen on reaping day.

I walked down the stairs, and into the kitchen, consisting of a small oven, a gas cooker, and a sink, with several cabinets.

I opened a drawer, and pulled out a pot, filled it with water, and put it on the stovetop. I lit it on, and sprinkled fresh pine needles and mint leaves in the pot. The aroma of pine filled the room, and I took a deep breath, Nothing like pine to freshen a room.

The water boiled, and I turned the heat off, and the leaves out. I picked up an old, chipped mug and poured the hot liquid into it. Carefully, I took it into the dining room and sat down at the head of the table.

Something in the tea brought me back to life, whether it was heat, or the smell of the mint, cured my cramp.

"Juniper? Awake so early?"

I looked in her direction, and she smiled softly. My mother.

People always told me we looked alike, but I couldn't see how. She had red hair, and I had coppery brown hair. My eyes are hunter green, and hers are green-gray. She had a much thinner face, but that was probably because of her age. And the deep lines in her eyes, from hard work in our district. I could tell she used to be beautiful, but I can't see it very much anymore.

"I had a cramp," I explained. "I couldn't sleep well."

"Did you turn the stove off?" I nodded and pointed to the cooker.

In district 7, where almost everything is made of wood and the forests that surround us too are, fires are the worst thing that could ever happen in our lives. We tried to keep things a little damp around our houses to prevent fires, but it made the wood soggy and useless, so it was a gamble.

I hated fires. The last one I had personally experienced was just six months ago, when my 13-year old sister Alona had tried to cook her own meal, because Mom was sick, and Dad and I were at work in the woods harvesting wood, but had left the stove on and a fire broke out in the kitchen. Luckily, it was only a small one and no one was hurt, but it scared the wits out of me. The last big fire we had had was when I was just the baby and the entire district burned down. It took years to rebuild everything and months more to get used to living again.

I drank the rest of the tea and went upstairs to change into my gathering suit.

I wore black athletic pants, a brown shirt, and a plastic rain jacket I had found last year abandoned in thw oods.

I walked outside and checked the sky. It was fairly sunny, good weather for foraging.

For all I know, district 7 is the only district that has legal access to the woods, because we have to cut the trees to fill our lumber quotas. Our women gathered food and grew crops here too, and most of the women in our district were married to lumberjacks. Girls like me were oddities, most were married off at a young age, 16-20 and always had children. We lead a simple and closely-knit life. My father had warned me to never get married because I would be putting my future children at risk of being reaped, which was a huge sorrow in the district, where everyone knows each other. It doesn't matter whether you're poor or rich, we all were like neighbors.

Besides...what kind of boy would marry me? I was a plain-looking person; I had the same coppery brown hair and green eyes as everyone else in my district.

I scanned the forest floor for any distinguising marks, and I found what I wanted.

I carefully tore one leaf off the cluster and sniffed it. It had the scent of onions. I began to dig on the ground around it, and pull up the leeks, one by one. I had gathered an armful, twenty leaves, and headed back home. I would have to take the hidden path, otherwise someone would figure out there are leeks in the woods.

With plants, I had to be extra careful, because I could easily poison myself, my family, or one of the people I trade with from the plants I sell them. I wasn't very good with plants, Alona was better at it than I.

I came in through the back door and dropped the leeks on the kitchen counter. Alona and the parents were having breakfast, so I washed up my hands and served myself two-day old oatmeal with nuts and raisins mixed in. I even snuck in some honey and cinnamon inside; it was reaping day, we were supposed to celebrate surviving another year so it was appropriate for the occasion.

I quickly spooned it into my mouth and tried to savor the taste, but all I could think about was the wood-boring beetles I had found in the woods eating away at fallen logs and stumps. Should I have told someone about them? If I did, what should I have done about them? Burn them? Let them be? And what about soap? We had gone dry of it days ago, and I was still trying to figure out how to bundle up enough money to buy soap and oil. Maybe I could enter more tesserae. I had only one year left of availability, and I wanted to make use of it.

"Juniper? Are you not hungry?" My eyes flickered down and I realized my oatmeal was beginning to go cold.

"Oh, I was just a little distracted." I shoveled the rest of it into my mouth and ran upstairs. The curfew time for the reaping was 2:00 pm, when everyone was expected to be at the reaping, and it was nearly noon. Time seemed to be passing faster by the minute.

I forced open my closet door and wondered what I could manage to wear this year. A blouse and skirt would do, but where would I find one?

I heard a knock on the door behind me, and opened the door. My mother. She was holding a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine in her hands. Her old, worn-down hands that I had inherited.

"I thought you'd want something for the reaping," she said. "I was meaning to give it to you for your birthday, but now seemed like a more appropriate time..."

I took the package and ripped through the paper. A bundle of photographs. A green ribbon. And...a dress.

I lifted it carefully by the shoulders and it began to unfold. It was made of forest green velvet and decorated with gold embroidery of flowers at the rim and waist. Something fell out of the inside, and I crouched over to pick it up.

It was a golden pendant shaped like a small pine tree, on a matching chain. A light layer of dust coated it, so I brushed it off.

"I found them in the attic while I was cleaning up," she explained. "The dress wasn't in such good shape, so I tried to sew it back together as well as I could. I think it belonged to your grandmother."

I flipped through the photos, and recognized them all. The first set was of Bay and Willow's wedding, just last year. Bay is my older brother. I missed having Bay around. I liked talking to him when I was younger, because he actually listened to me, unlike Alona, who was not aware of the world beyond her friends and her own appetite.

The second set was of my sixteenth birthday. Mom had saved up to buy a cake, a real one, from the bakery that served the richer citizens, and I got a real axe as a present.

The third was of different edible plants, with the names and uses written on the backs of them.

"Thanks," I said, enthusiastically. I gave her a quick hug and tried on the dress. The inside was smooth and soft, a bit like a blanket. Mom plaited and tied my hair with the ribbon then clipped the necklace around my neck. I grazed it with the tip of my finger and the metal stung with cold.

My mother kept touching my hair, as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world, and we both looked into the mirror.

"You have your father's hair," she said.

"And I have your nose," I replied.

"And my eyes."

"And her stubborn-headedness," a third voice said. Alona. She had come into the room, dressed for the reaping, and admired my hair.

"Are you ready for the reapings?" my mother asked Alona. She nodded quickly and skipped out of the room. My mother and Alona went downstairs to leave, but I took one more glance at the mirror before leaving. I followed after my parents and Alona, and walked down the square. I came in line for identification checks, then went to my section, the 17-year old girls.

By the time we arrived, our escort had gotten too impatient to start, and had made Mayor Proswell start earlier than usual. He rushed through the dark days letter, showed the film, and our escort ran up the stage to greet us.

"Welcome, district seven, to the 29th annual hunger games! What fun! Lets get right to the reapings now!" She swiftly pulled out one slip and winked at us.

I wondered what the odds that I would be reaped were. I had ten names in the bowl, lower than most other people, and Alona had only two, about the safest you can get for her age.

"Juniper Oihane!" she declared.

I paused for a second to recollect my wits. _What had just happened?_

Alona. She was yelling my name. A silence in district 7. No one dared to speak.

She called my name. I was going to be in the 29th Hunger Games. I had a gold necklace with a pendant shaped like a tree. My mother was 39 years old.

I had light brown hair with glints of copper in it, and green eyes. My father was a lumberjack and I was too.

I grit my teeth and pushed my way up the stage. There would be no fear, no hesistation now. I tried to portray the bravest and most confident face that I could at all, but I was already close to tears.

I tried to ignore the fact that every living person on the face of Panem was watching my every move. Not easy to not think about that.

I listened in on the rest of the reapings. The boy was a skinny 15-year old, named Josef Haiden, who broke into tears on the stage. Of course. He was one of the kids who lived in the community home.

I could hear Alona screaming my name at the top of her lungs, like it would help somehow, and two peacekeepers were holding her back.

Goodbye, district 7.

* * *

Alona's face streaked with tears, and mother's was too. Bay and his wife had come too, and everyone seemed to be trying to console me. I didn't want their help. I wish that they would just leave me alone.

"Juniper, please try to win," Alona said, for the umteenth time.

"I'm not going to win! Face it, the chances of me winning are one to twenty-four, I'm no good at fighting, finding food, or anything!" I yelled at her. What was wrong with me? I never yelled, never got mad, and especially at Alona.

But for her to face the truth, I had to too. I had to face that...I was going to die and there was nothing I could do about it.

Why, why did the Capitol have to do this to us? It was a different idea. Rebellious. Nothing like me.

I told a white-lie, said I would try. Of course, I would. But I couldn't promise I would win.

Stange thoughts in my head...murder? Suicide? Survival? Maybe the Games really did change you.

The peacekeepers came, escorted my family out, and took me to the train station. I couldn't wait to get this over with. The boy tribute was still crying, and I resisted the urge to tell him to shut up.

I pressed the pendant against my palm, and it left a tree-shaped indent in it.

The odds were not in my favor.


	9. District 8 Reaping

**Dynamite-Dreams...Please don't kill me. The other readers and I would be very sad if you did. :D**

**PrincessScissors owns both Sorren Torriali and Lacette Phogan. Damn, I love that name. Lacette is an epic name, and you are not allowed to argue. Kapeesh? **

**Warning: Following chapter is_ very_ long. I just wanted to get through this already, so I sort of rushed and some of the parts are kind of awkward and not well thought out.**

_-Lacette Phogan- 14 years old_

My eyes slowly opened and there was a warm breath under my chin. I was striken with fear for a second, that it was the witch staring down at me. I risked one look down, and sighed in relief. It was only Vite, who would turn five in just days.

I stroked the top of his head and a small snort came from his nose. He looked cold so I got up and tucked him into my bed. The witch was not home. She probably got drunk and fell asleep on the streets. Maybe I'd be lucky and she'd be dead before she came home.

The only thing I could find in the cupboards was an old can of corn, that had been there for weeks. It would have to do for now. I closed it with a creak and began opening the can with the blade of a worn-down paring knife. It was hard, but I wrenched it open and poured the kernels into a wood soup bowl.

I gently tapped Vite's shoulder and his eyes fluttered open. "Vite, time for breakfast." He was still a bit tired and I lifted him on my back. He was gaining weight, I knew because he was heavier than he was a month ago.

I seated him at the small chair on the crooked table in the middle of the house and handed him a spoon. "Eat up," I said. He carefully ladled it into his mouth, making sure he didn't drop a single kernel, because it could mean life or death to us.

He smiled sweetly at me and kissed the top of his head. "Make sure you chew carefully." I sat on the chair opposite to his and watched him eat every bite. I felt the burn of hunger in my stomach, but tried to ignore it the best I could, for Vite. He needed food more than me.

When he was done, I carried the empty bowl away and wiped his face with a dishcloth. "I have to go somewhere right now, so stay quiet and be good." He nodded. He knew what he was supposed to do, and it made me both proud and ashamed, in ways that only I oculd understand.

I slung a jacket over my tattered black shirt and headed outside. It was still early in the morning, and not many people were out, only the early people who'd gone out to the reaping before us, like the district officials or their families.

I took a deep breath of the smoky factory air from the textile factories, dubbed the "mills", that covered most of district 8. Of course, the factories would be empty today, because of the reaping, which was an excuse for the poor workers who labored there to get away. I was used to the foul smells in the mill, from working there for years to avoid the "other" option, prostitition, which I personally think is hundreds of times worse than my own situation.

In fact, prostitution isn't even a small market in our district. It's one of the biggest industries in the poorer part of district 8, even when it's highly illegal. Prostitution is a common fate for girls where I come from, and many choose to work in the mills to avoid execution if they're caught. My mother herself is one of them, and my father divorced her after he found out.

I walked through the square, where the reapings was beginning to be set up, and knocked on the door of the small candy shop in the better part of  
district 8.

The door opened, and the sweet smell of melting sugar drifted out. "Lacette? What are you up here for so early?"

I smiled and we shared a quick hug. "I was wondering if you could look after my brother at the reaping. Just look after him until the reaping is over."

Anya brushed her blonde hair back and thought for a second. "Okay, I'll see you at the reaping."

I eagerly clasped my hands together and waved away. "Bye! See you then." She closed the door and I walked away feeling reassured. I would need someone to look after Vite when I was at the reaping, and Anya seemed like the right person. She was responsible, mature, and we used to be friends before she finished school. She was 19 now, and had no worries about being reaped; never did have to worry as she never went for tesserae.

"Come here, sweetheart." A chill ran up my spine, and I dared to look at the person who'd spoke. He was leaning in an alleyway and holding an broken glass bottle. His scraggly beard was dabbed with mud and he had wild, animal eyes. Probably drunk.

I looked away and tried to take the horrible image out of my mind. I would not end up like my mother. Never.

_-Sorren Torriali- 16 years old_

I pressed my fingers against the large bruise where that boy had hit me. The swelling and shock had gone down, and now pain seeped in through the edges.

I rolled over and moaned on the mat on the community home floor. The ground was covered in dust and signs of human misery. People were stirring about in the room, and the crazy girl, the one who was always screaming in the middle of the night about her dead parents was rocking herself back and forth. This place was a madhouse. What had I done to belong here?

A faint ray of light through the tattered curtains showed signs of daylight. I got up, and looked at myself through the small plate of water I used as a mirror. The bruise was dark purple, and ugly with hate.

I crawled out of bed, and walked out of the community home. Finally, I could move. My stomach grumbled with hunger, and I wondered how long it had been since my last meal. Days? A week?

Where could I get food? The easiest option would be to look through the merchant class's trash cans. They always had something inside them, and if I was quick enough, maybe I could get a few rotting scraps.

I sneaked in through an alleyway, but failed to notice the people hiding behind trash cans and in dark corners, waiting for someone to pass by.

Three older boys circles around me, blocking off my exit. They were giants compared to me, at least six and a half feet tall each, and holding assorted items, from knives to roughly cut tree branches.

"What is a community kid doing here?" the tallest one remarked. "We'd better teach you a lesson in staying where you belong."

I searched with my eyes for something to defend myself with. Maybe some loose trash, a stick. The first boy punched me in the eye and I doubled over in pain. "Please, stop," I moaned.

The trio laughed and he kicked my ribs. Pain and misery shot up my body, and I curled up on the street. They all took turns kicking me and I begged for them to stop. My vision was becoming blurry with tears.

_Please, just kill me now,_ I silently thought.

"What? Is little baby crying to his mommy?" He laughed. One of them jabbed my back with his toe. "Wait, baby doesn't have a mommy, baby is an orphan."

I slowly closed my eyes and tried to block out the hurting. Every bone in my body was screaming with pain.

What had I done to deserve this?

_-Lacette Phogan-_

Back at home, Vite was playing with carved wooden animal toys.

"Lacette?" he said. I lifted him up and carried him to our room. The drab gray walls of the house only added to the dullness of our district.

"I have to go somwhere, so Anya will take care of you until I come back." He nodded and I lifted his shirt off. "Do you remember Anya? She was the nice girl who took care of you last week when you were sick."

"I'm hungry," he said, and it was easy to tell he wasn't paying attention.

"I know. We can eat when I come back, I promise." He smiled hopefully and I slipped the clean shirt on him, then switched out into good pants.

I finished dressing Vite out and wondered what I could possible wear, myself. I shuffled through the small stack of clothing I had stashed under my bed. The gray school uniform skirt would work, and if I put a clean wool sweater over it, no one would notice my stained brown and torn tee.

Vite took my hand and we walked outside. The weather was lovely, and it would be a nice day for a holiday if it truly was one, and not the day that two people would be doomed to certain death. No one from our district had ever won before. Of course not. It was always district 1 or 2, and the first six afterwards. The chances of someone from the lower districts winning was one to a thousand.

It was just my luck that Anya was waiting near the line for ID checks when we arrived at the square, or marketplace, as most people called it. I quickly gave Vite to her and got in line. When I was finished, I ran to my section and waved to Vite. He was smiling and laughing, not knowing what the true meaning of today was.

It stung inside me, the fact that I would have to tell him the awful truth someday, that would destroy his innocence at just a young age. It was twisted and cruel what the Capitol did. Even though I never really thought about it before, thoughts of anger clouded my mind somewhere deep inside, that there was the slightest possibility that Vite might be reaped in the future.

I tried to clear out my thoughts and tuned into the reaping. All I could hope now was that this would never happen to me.

_-Sorren-_

"Are you alright?" I was seeing in a shaky double vision, and my head hurt like heck. How many people were in the room? Four? Three? Five?

The drifting heads merged into two, and everything became less blurry. "I don't know," I replied honestly. "What happened?"

A girl and an old woman. The girl looked about twelve or thirteen, and her face was dotted with freckles. "We found you in the streets in a pretty bad shape. Who are you?" the girl said.

"I'm Sorren. Where am I?" I sat up and gazed around me. A small one-room shack with two beds and mismatched furniture. Even though this place was pretty worn down, it looked more comfortable than the community home, where you'd wet the bed wondering if you would live through the night.

"I'm Laurel, and this is Gram. Our shack is on the edge of the district. We're about to go to the reaping; are you well enough to come?" I looked at my body and decided that I wasn't in too bad shape. I had a few bruises on my arms, back, and chest but they could be easily hidden under a shirt.

"I think I'm fine. I can get there by myself." The girl nodded, and I stood up from the bed where I had lain. There was a gauze tied around my lower calf, and a bloodstain showed through. A sudden urge to vomit coursed through my stomach. I turned my attention away to save myself from feeling sick again, and began to hobble to the door.

"Wait, you can't go alone!" the girl cried out. I sighed and let her take my arm. "What will you wear to the reaping?"

I sighed. "I'll buy something in town."

The girl handed me a neatly folded bundle of clothing. "These were my daddy's clothes, before he died." I took them thankfully and patted her shoulder.

"I can go now, thank you." The old woman was watching me, as if she was about to say something. I exited the shack and wondered what time it was. I carefully read the numbers on the clock tower in the center of the square. _1:45._ The reaping would be starting in just a few minutes. I would have to rush if I ddin't want to be arrested to publicly shot.

I hid behind a trash can and changed out into the clothing. It was a black collared shirt with dress pants. It was a bit loose, but I tried to tighten it the best I could.

I ran down the square and saw that I still had time. I quickly checked in and got into the 16 year old boy's section.

People were betting on who would be reaped this year. All bets were on me. I guess it doesn't matter anymore, whether I'm reaped or not.

Who cares?

_-Lacette-_

Something awful was about to happen, it knew something was. Vite was waving to me enthusiastically from his section and I tried to keep a calm face for him. Anything for Vite.

Our escort was getting riled up about the yelling people in the crowd, demanding her to get off the stage. Her makeup was smeared and she looked freakishly angry. She dipped her petite hand into the glass bowl and tried to hold an air of suspense, but made it look ridiculous.

She pulled up one slip and read out the name clearly, so there would be no mistakes. "Sorren Torriali," she said. There was one shuffling around in the sections, and people had cleared the way out for a skinny 16-year old. He had tears swelling in his eyes, and I knew from the pathetic bruises on his face, the scars on his neck, that he was a community kid.

As a young child, I had feared that place, but never worried about going there. I had two parents looking after me. But then my parents divorced and I was forced to live with my mother and grow up too quickly, becoming a parent of my own and for Vite. No one knows this, but I'm not being raised by my mother. If anyone knew that she wasn't my guardian anymore, I'd be sent to the community home. It was a tough situation for me, who has to keep the person I hate the most alive, just alive and sane enough to say that she's my mother. I could have thrown her out years ago. But for Vite, who could never survive in there, I kept my mouth shut.

The boy was sobbing now, and I almost pitied him. Almost. But I knew better than to show my emotions.

The escort walked to the second bowl and pulled out a slip. One slip, that could hold my name inside, and my fate as well. I looked over to Vite, and he was smiling. No idea that I would die immediately in the arena if I was reaped.

"Lacette Phogan." I had waiting, just waiting for the name, but I never knew it would hurt so much once it came. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. I held them in for Vite, who need my steadiness.

I trudged up the steps, and looked away to hide my face. I tried to trap my desperation inside me and refused to look at the boy. His eyes had swelled up considerably, and looked down at the ground. The mayor asked us to shake hands, and I didn't move, neither did he. We were escorted silently to the justice building and I was worried that I had done something wrong, and upset the Capitol. Would they do something to Vite because I refused to shake hands?

What had I just done?

_-Sorren-_

No one visited me. I didn't think anyone would, either. My parents dead, my family cutting off links, and no one cared whether I was dead or alive.

I didn't like the look of that girl. She was trying to hide something, and I couldn't figure out what.

Most of the tears on my face had dried, but it didn't make my life any easier. I'd probably be ridiculed by the other districts then killed on the spot in the arena. I'd never win. No chance. I didn't know anything about survivial or finding food or hunting or even running. My fate sealed with one word. I put my head into my hands and began to cry again. I had made it even worse by not shaking the girl's hand. Would they punish me for it?

I kicked the wall once, then twice. Stupid. This was all stupid. Why did they have to punish us? We did nothing. It was the generation before us, not me or anyone else.

I sighed and leaned on the couch. Rest, thats what I needed right now.

_-Lacette-_

I held Vite's hand tightly in my hand and touched his cheek. "Vite? Are you listening to me? I need to tell you something very important."

He looked directly at me with wide, fearful eyes and touched noses. "I can listen."

"Vite, I'm going to have to go away for a very long time, and I might not come back. Anya will take care of you. I want you to be in your best behavior for her. Do you understand?" He nodded and pressed him close to me again, to remind myself this was real.

"But I'll miss you," he said. "Please, come back."

I held in my tears longer. I didn't want him crying too. The sound of Vite crying is the only thing that can truly kill me.

"I'll my hardest to come back, Vite. But remember, I love you. Don't go back to mommy." The peacekeepers entered the room, and escorted Vite and Anya away.

"Be good for Anya!" I yelled after them as the door slammed close, cutting me off from my home, my family, and my friends.

I touched the cold wood door, and I began to cry.


	10. District 10 Reaping

If** you have noticed, I did not do a district 9 reaping. Thats because the two tributes, Saffy Reid and Lawson Moren will not live very long into the games, and trying to write their reapings will be a pain in the arse. Warning: EXTRMEMELY LONG CHAPTER!**

**calamity11 owns Malia Saunders, calico101 owns Holden Wise. Everyone who reviewed; YOU ARE AWESOME! Keeps writing reviews, It'll speed up the progress of this story.**

* * *

_-Malia Saunders- 15 years old_

If there is anything more for me to hate in my life, its reaping day. Why? Because reaping day is the day when a girl and boy are chosen from every district to be prettied up and act like pet dogs to the Capitol, then be killed for their entertainment in a fight to the death.

It was quite like what we did with cattle in district 10; we bred and raised them, took them to livestock shows and auctions, then had them slaughtered in the stockyard.

Of course, we never ate the beef ourselves. No one in district 10 could afford even the scraps to feed ourselves. Instead, we shot hares for met that passed by the ranches.

The moment I opened my eyes to today, I knew it was going to be a bad day, because reaping days are _always_ bad; thats when I have to spend the entire damn day with Ashley and Fae.

Heavy footsteps trudged up the stairs and I buried my face into my pillow. I could pretend I was sleeping, and get away today.

"Malia?" he said and knocked on the door. "It's time for breakfast."

I stayed silent and hoped he would go away.

"Malia, really, you're more mature than that." He opened the door and I pretended to go to sleep. He shook me strongly and pulled my pillow away. "We have to go to the reaping, added to that. Come on, I know you're hungry."

I glared into my father's eyes and sat up. "I'm not hungry. Go away," I growled.

He laughed as if it was a joke and slapped me between the shoulders. "I'm serious. You don't want to starve, do you?" He left the room and out of eyesight. I sighed and stood up. I might as well eat, since I was hungry anyway.

I brushed off my nightshirt and began to leave the room. For a second, I hesistated to go. I didn't have to go. I could spend the rest of the day up here. No one could tell me what to do anymore; I was unofficially an adult. But I was sort of hungry...

I walked down the stairs and heard the sound of words being passed. Ashley, Fae, and my parents were crowded around the television and worried looks crossed their faces.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Ashley shuffled to the right and I joined in.

A slim brown-haired woman wearing a gray suit was sitting at a coffee table with a cup of tea. On the other side of the table was a tall, ashy blonde clad in a silvery dress and super-high heels. A thick layer of unmistakeable scarlet lipstick coated her full lips, her hair was up in a tight bun.

I recognized both women; the woman with the suit and brown hair was the President White, the blonde was the temporary host for the Hunger Games, Rilanna Remark, I think her name was.

"So, Miss White, what are your plans for the 29th annual Hunger Games?" Rilanna asked.

"You'll be suprised what our gamemakers have devised this year," White responded in a pleasant tone. "I have it in mind that we will-"

The television suddenly turned off and Ashley's face was stricken with fear. "Well, why don't we have breakfast now?"

"What's going on?" I asked. "Why are you all looking like I grew a second head?"

They remained silent until my mother broke the silence by saying, "Who wants eggs for breakfast?"

Why did no one tell me anything important? I was an adult; I had the right to know. My mother dropped a plate of eggs in front of me and I began to stuff my cheeks with them. "Since today is the day of the reapings," Da announced. "I plan to spend the whole day with just our family."

I nearly spat out my eggs and outrage crossed my face. "I'm not wasting a day of my life with those two bitches."

My mother's upper lip stiffened, then she stood up. "Young lady, what did you just say?"

I got up in my turn, and faced her angrily. "I said, I'm not spending my day with those two bitches." She reached for my shoulder, but I stormed out of the house and slammed the door in her face.

I made a run for the open plains, beyond the wire fences where the cattle grazed. I laid down, and began to scream my heart out and rip up the dirt and grass. No one understood me. No one knew how I felt, or cared. I wish I could press a button and make Ashley and Fae disappear off the face of the Earth. Then I'd be happy.

Years of frustration and anger were bottled up in my heart me and ate away at my insides, like the duststorms that plagued district 10. Ashley and Fae. Ashley and Fae. Those were the only things that were of meaning to my parents. They spoiled them, loved them to the bottom of their hearts. I was cast aside, like an orphaned puppy that followed people for handouts.

I wished I belonged somewhere.

_-Holden Wise- 17 years old_

The worst and best part about living in district 10 have to be the coyotes. I was scared somethin' terrible of them, but no one knew, and none needed to neither.

I had to go out and calm down the horses 'cause of the thunderstorm rolling in and booming overhead, and was coming inside to rest up. The wind was howling and blowing dust into my eyes. I blinked it out well and slammed open the rusty old door.

Pop was frying up a rabbit and sprinkling it with pepper. It was just Pop and me, because my Ma died some years ago from the fever that killed nearly a thousand people in district 10 and more in the other districts. Pop was always saying how glad he was that he had a son, and I'm glad he's still around. He's a victor, he is, and we spend our weekends training to bring some honor to our name. He was in the games at age 17, and expects me to do the same. I've been waiting for the proud day when I'll make him proud, for him and Ma.

Pop turned off the stove and split the fragrant meat in half, on for me, one for him. I took my half to the worn-down couch in the center of the house, careful not to sit on the loose spring, then turned on the TV. I needed to get this all right if I wanted to stand a chance against the competition. There were pretty good players out there, and I needed to catch a sponsor's eye quick.

I played the recording on, and watched the district 1 reapings from last year. The boy was going up with a look of confidence on his face and sayin' "I volunteer" before the escort even called out the name. I could try that out, but it was a hit or miss. I only got one chance to get it right.

The girl was reaped, and held her head up high like she was some mighty queen. It made me wonder who my district partner would be. A skinny 12-year old was my best shot. But too many of our 12-year olds had died durins the flood last year, that killed most of the children and our livestock. Many folks went hungry during the winter.

"Holden," Pop said. "Eat up. I want you to _impress_ those people, not let them be able to count how many ribs you got."

I piled the meat into my mouth and tried to chew it all at once. The meat was tough and stringy, unlike beef, which was tender when beaten properly.

I patted my hands on my jeans, but Pop snorted at that. "You better be thinking of wearing something nice, because jeans and a tee won't cut it."

With a heavy sigh, I walked upstairs and looked into my closet, chose a tux, and took off my shirt. I hated suits. They were stiff at the collars, itchy at the pants, and made me sweat somethin' awful. But if Pop thought it was the right thing to wear, who was I to argue?

I slipped into the cotton socks and combed my hair. It was fairly clean, since I hadn't done no hard work in a matter of days, so I finished in seconds. I walked back down the steps to watch the recording again.

Oh yes. The reapings. I turned on the television, but it went to some strange program. Two women talking? I couldn't change the setting; it wouldn't change.

"I have had many inconviences with peacekeepers, that I may even decide to-"

"Holden Wise, what junk are you watching again?" my Pop yelled. "I told you get ready for the reapin' not stare at the television."

I hung my head in shame and walked to the front door. "Yessir," I said. "Going to the square right now."

I ran down the sand-beaten streets, and shielded my eyes from the dust beginning to rise from the west. I was worried, 'cause of the dust that seemed to increase every summer. If this went on for much longer, we'd lose the cattle. The wind and dust storm slowly subsided, and I lowered my hand from my eyes. But I wouldn't like to see what I did then again. Dust. Everywhere, there was piles of dust and debris. Across the streets, on people's clothing, covering everythin' like a dirty blanket.

I kicked a pile of dust and it collapsed with a _poof._ What should I do when I volunteer?

I walked into the square and signed in-at the lines for identification checks, then went to my section. 17-year old boys. There weren't too many of us anymore 'cause most left to run away into the desert. Fools. They'd be hoping to escape to the woods, but they don't know nothin'. Most'a them died on the first day or were shot down by the hovercraft. I didn't dare leave; my Pop would skin me alive if he found out I did.

I brushed the dust off'a my pants and redid my collar. I was here early, most only came at the last minute, but Pop was the only victor for district 10 and made me go as early as he did.

There was'a no one else here, so I sat down and began repeatin' what Pop told me to say and do when I volunteered.

_-Malia Saunders-_

Once I cried my soul out and felt content with myself again, I got up and wiped the stinkin' dirt off my shirt.

_How long had I been here? Minutes? Hours? Had I missed the reaping? _I looked up and read the position of the sun. Almost noon. Darn. I still had two hours to get there, enough time for any excuse not to count.

I limped towards the first sign of civilization, a small house in the distance. I was completely parched, dirty, and starving. How did I even become so angry that I'd insult my own sister, then run away and roll in the dust? It made me feel even stupider than I already was. Ashley and Fae. This was all their fault.

I walked under the sun for what felt like hours, until I reached that tiny house. I didn't recognize this part of the district; it was occupied by richer people and included the victor's village. Only one house was inhabited, of course, the winner of the 5th Hunger games, Mr. Wise. All the kids were rumoring that he shot cows for fun, and ate sheep's brains. I didn't believe them; I think I hated everyone too much to really pay attention. All I knew was that he had a son, that was supposed to be good-looking, but that was wish-wash. He wasn't so good looking. He had the face of a cow.

I walked down the street, but women form the merchant class started screaming for me to go away. I was the no-good folk from the prairies that's only use was that we were good with animals.

I ran faster and faster as my sore wind-blown feet could carry me, and tried to push out the hurtful words. I didn't care. I didn't care what anyone thought of me.

I climbed up the scraggly old sycamore tree behind my house and into the open window. I almost wanted to run back to my family, but I remembered what I'd said to them. I walked downstairs, and expected someone to welcome me back in.

They had left for the reaping without me. I tried to contain my disappointment and anger inside me, but it hurt to do so.

I went through Fae's clothing and picked out a pretty blue denim dress that I'd always liked. She wouldn't care if I stole from her dresses; she knew I thought they were awfully pretty. I dressed into the outfit and admired myself in the mirror.

My mother always used to say, "Eyes are the windows to the soul". All I could see in mine was dark brown and anger in it's rawest form. Ashley had beautiful azure eyes like the sky, and Fae, soft gray and filled with pity.

Ignoring the sudden pang of pain, I tied my hair with a strip of cloth in a loose ponytail. I didn't look half so bad.

I slipped my feet into the dress shoes that belonged to Fae last year. Hand-me-downs. I never got anything "new". Only Ashley got them, and most her clothes were worn by our mother.

The cool wood of the front door never felt so good to me. Like I was leaving behind the empty shell of a memory.

I twisted the buttons on my dress as I walked to the reaping. It would be best if I stayed quiet, then they wouldn't see me. I didn't think I'd react very well if I saw either of their faces now. But it was too late. Fae's eyes met up to mine as I entered the square.

"Malia?" she said softly. I looked down to my shoes as Fae eyed me. Wearing _her _dress. I twisted the button a little faster.

"Malia?" she repeated. I walked into my section and refused to acknowledge her presence. I didn't want her. No. Never.

She put her hand on my shoulder and I faced her. She wanted it. "Leave me alone!" I yelled. A shocked expression crossed her face, and I shoved her hand off me. "I hate you! I hate you all!"

I ran deep into the seas of people and buried my face in my hands. Why couldn't they just leave me alone?

_-Holden Wise-_

The mid-noon sun was really heatin' things up, especially at the square, where the reaping had been set up. Water seemed to hiss and boil when it touched the air, as vicious as a rattlesnake's bite. Pop was sitting on the stage, eating a fat steak and having a drink. I wish I had something to drink.

People were filing into their sections silently, while I was sweating my skin off. Why did we have to do it on the hottest day of summer? Even if it was rainin' so hard the sky cracked, it would be better than today's weather.

Not to mention the dust, which made things a thousand and one times worse.

"Holden Wise, you get up here now!" I turned my head, and Pop was waving and shoutin' to me. I stomped up there, careful not to slip on the dust, and Pop slapped my back.

"You give them your best, you understand?" I nodded rapidly. This was my moment to shine. What I've waited nearly ten years to happen. I look from the high point in the stage, and look at the grim and gray faces of the people. A small girl holding her grandpa's hand looks up at me.

Which brings me to the other girl...

_-Malia Saunders-_

I couldn't believe it. Ada White was trying to put on a district 10 accent and act like a dumb rancher who'd had too much to drink.

"Howdy, district ten," was the first thing the escort said. She was trying to humiliate us for having a "southern accent". Isn't that what all escorts did? She sounded even more bizarre with her Capitol accent right on top of it.

Great. Being humiliated on live television _again._

I, in all my experience, have never heard anyone in my district ever say "howdy" before. It was an obsolete greeting that was used hundreds of years even before Panem existed. Ridiculous.

Everything about this day was awful. The film, the speech, the letter, and on top of it, the reaping. I hated my life. Why did I even have to live anymore? I was no good. I was too ugly and rude to even find a half-deaf or blind person to marry.

All I wanted was to go up to the stage and slap that woman. It wouldn't matter if I was arrested or got my family in trouble; I wanted to die. But another thought condensed in some dark, cruel corner of my mind.

It probably wouldn't work. But why not give them a goood show while I'm at it?

I almost laughed at the thought. Pathetic. But hey, it was worth a shot.

"Now, time to choose our honorable district ten tributes." She bent over the glass bowl, and winked at us. Quite sad. "Let's see, Con-"

"I volunteer." A volunteer? What?

I turned my head in the direction of the voice. Tall, fairly good-looking, and a well built body. Even I knew who he was. He was already pushing his way through his section to get to the stage. It didn't matter if he took his time. No one else would dare to volunteer.

People were cheering him on, girls waving to him, and guys yelling his name to get his attention.

He and the only mentor of district 10, Mr. Wise, had the same dark eyes the shade of charcoal and dust-colored hair. Father and son. Obviously.

"What is your name, young man?" Ada asked.

"Holden Wise," he said, and gave a pearly white smile. Now it was my turn.

"Let's find out who will be our gal tribute this year!" I took one deep breath, then said the words.

"I volunteer as tribute."

_-Holden Wise-_

No was was flashing smiles at me anymore. No one was waving. All I could hear the dust blowing in the distance. Someone cried out. Another began to weep. This was going completely wrong.

There was no time to be disappointed. A skinny, malnutritioned girl lifted her head high like it was nobody's buisness and lifted herself up next to me. Everyone was starin' at her with astonishment, even me.

Although she appeared to be small and harmless, I saw something mighty dangerous in her eyes. It was the same fire a bull got in his eyes before he was about to charge. The air around her glowed with defiance, even when it was only me who saw it.

"Well...how interesting," the Capitol woman said. "Let's have our volunteers a handshake to congratulate their success."

This is not a success. That was supposed to be _my _day, no one else's. It would have gone perfectly if it wasn't for her stealing the spotlight.

She was going to pay for this.

_-Malia-_

"Why," Fae cried out. "Did you volunteer?"

My chest heaved with irritation and fury. All my glory and energy at the reaping was now replaced by old pains. "What good am I? I'm too dumb to go to school, I'm bad with livestock, I'm too ugly to get married, and I have to live with _you!"_

"Don't say that!" Fae yelled. "You're smart, you're a good person, and everyone in this family loves you."

"Love?" I scoffed. "Like the love you gave me when I was thrown aside for you and Ashley?"

"And you," I pointed to my parents, whose faces had turned ashen. "Ashley and Fae, Ashley and Fae, that's all that matters to you. Has it ever occured to you that you have, perhaps, three daughters instead of two?"

"Oh, Malia," Fae said, with tears streaking across her cheeks. "I'm so sorry. Whatever I did to you, whatever Mom and Dad did to you, forgive me. Forgive us."

I hesitated for a second to strike back.

_They hate you, _I reminded myself. _They threw you away when you needed them the most._

"I hate you!" I yelled at them. "If you want to be forgived, get the hell out of my life!"

The peacekeepers outside must have heard the shouts and screams, because they came in and said it was time for them to leave.

"Malia," Fae said. "Here." She unclasped something around her neck and handed me it. I timidly took it and rolled it in my palm.

A blue glass pendant in the shape of a jabberjay. So sweet and delicate, just as our fates. Words so bitter on my tongue brought hateful pleasure. Telling them I hated them. One part of me was content, the other rueful.

I guess I would never find out what would happen if I didn't say it, but I knew I'd always feel the say way about myself.

_-Holden-_

"Holden?" Pop whispered. His head was in his hands. He looked terrible, like he hadn't slept in days. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked. There was nothing to be sorry about. My wish was granted. Honor and peace would be connected with the Wise family name for decades.

"For bringing you into this." Pop looked up and sighed. "The games aren't what you think they are, son. No one who enters comes out the same person. I've seem horrible things. People killing themselves after experiencing it. People going mad, people turning into monsters."

I paused and tried to understand what he was saying. "But you always said that the games were easy. You said that they'd be the gateway to glory."

"I still have nightmares, Holden. The people you've killed with always come back and haunt you, for the rest of you life. You'll be forced to train and watch the kids who have become to close to your heart be slaughtered mercilessly."

"I-I...don't understand." I said. What was he talking about? A peacekeeper came in the room and escorted Pop out.

If only I knew the horrors I'd face in the arena very soon then...

**This is my excuse of why I haven't updated in forever. I've had final exams the past two weeks, and been _so_ busy studying and working on end-of-the-year projects. There. I am not irresponsible, I am not lazy, I will update more now that it's summer, but sorry, I just didn't have the time the past weeks.**


	11. District 11 Reaping

**I'm not going to say much, just that the district 11 boy is a bloodbath. ladyyuuki16 owns Lissa Dragomir. Pretty please review? :)**

**Right now, I am living off of caffeine, sugar, and your reviews, the typical diet of an author. Someone, SAVE ME.**

_-Lissa Dragomir- 18 years old_

I focused my bow on the tender spot between the ribs of the doe. If I could hit a vital organ, it would be an easy kill. But also a major risk. It would be safer to take out a few legs with arrows, then throw a knife.

I had been coming home from my daily hunt with the disappointing spoils of one rabbit and a couple greens, when I spotted a white-tailed deer picking away at the remains of last year's harvest. If I could kill it, no one living under my roof would go hungry tonight.

I took one step forward, and realized my mistake by the time it was too late. A dry twig cracked, and the doe raised her head in alarm. I swore under my breath as she pounced away.

I'd guess we'd have to grit our teeth and starve tonight.

I slung my bow over my back and climbed over a decaying log. How could I explain to Sakura and the four kids that we'd be going hungry tonight?

Stopping to catch my breath at the edge to the woods, I saw a flock of at least twenty grooslings stopping to rest on the Hill. Just what I needed. I shot six in the head before scaring the rest of the grouse.

The birds were large and had particularily fat meat that went well with stew or rice. I picked them up by the necks and stashed them into my game bag.

Smoke was beginning to rise from the chimmney-tops of the little shacks that the citizens of district 11 lived in. In our district, no one was rich or privledged. Not even the mayor or peacekeepers lived in better conditions than us, although they got to eat plenty more. Today was reaping day, so everyone who wasn't a family member of a tribute would gather in the square and hold a party.

But with reaping day also meant the reaping...that reminded me, I needed to enter in three more tesserae before the reaping. I now had exactly fifty tesserae, from helping feed a family of seven for six years. Even with all the kids, Sakura, Sirius, and me working in the fields and me hunting, we still barely had enough to eat.

I walked into house number 67, the one we were assigned, and I dropped my bag onto the small counter we used as a kitchen. Sakura brought two buckets of water from the public pump outside and laughed. "I had to wait in line for an hour just to get a drink of water!"

"Well, it's a busy day, especially with the reaping and the celebration later," I said causally.

"What's in the bag?" she asked. She lifted the flap and smiled. "Grouse. Perfect for the soup I'm making later. Thanks."

She removed the rest of the birds from the bag, and began cutting off their heads. I was glad Sakura did that instead of me, because honestly, I'm scared of blood.

Sakura. She was only eighteen like me, since we were fraternal twins, but had already become a little mother after Dad died. Her ashy blond hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore a white apron covered in bloodstains and food.

The front entrance slowly opened, and in stepped Sirius. His clothes were covered in white powder, presumably flour, from the mill he worked in. He had heavy lines under his eyes, but an infectious smile to go with it. Almost 22, and working as a miller, Sirius never had a chance to make his own living, held behind by the six mouthes back at home to feed.

"How are my two favorite girls doing at home?" He gave a small chuckle and emptied out his pockets into a glass jar. At least two cups of flour poured out, filling the jar to the rim.

"Enough to make six rolls," I said. "I'll teach Grace and Danny how to roll loaves."

"Speaking of Grace and Danny...where are they?" Sakura smiled softly and went back to cutting the grouse necks.

"I think they went into the woods looking for you...I told them not to go out too far," she said. I sighed and took my bow and quiver in hand. All I could hope was that they'd be in one piece by the time I got there.

* * *

Danny Dragomir smirked and shoved his 14-year old sister's shoulder. "If we're caught, this is all _your_ fault, not mine."

"What?" Grace exclaimed. "You're the one to said she was out here. So tell me, wise one, where is she?"

Danny shrugged his shoulders and glanced around. "I swear that she was down here. If she catches us, we'll be dead."

"I'm going to kill both of you." Danny shivered and slowly turned around.

"It was her fault!" he yelled. "She made me do it!"

I frowned and took their hands. "I told you not to come out here by yourselves. There are dangerous animals out here."

"I'm not afraid," Danny said proudly.

"Yeah, like you weren't afraid of that boar," Grace retorted.

"It was going to kill me!" he complained. "Anyone would do that."

"It doesn't matter," I said. "You broke the rules, so you're both going to be punished."

The children remained silent, until Danny broke the silence by asking, "What kind of punishment?"

A small grin broke through my face. "Bread-making."

* * *

"Why do we have to do this?" Danny asked.

"Because I said so." I carefully watched them as they kneaded the dough carefully. "Not so harsh. Do it like this." I put my hands over Grace's and showed her how to correctly knead it.

They were making the traditional crescent rolls of district 11, a hundred-year old recipe that used minimal dough and butter to make delicious loaves of bread. I remembered being a child and holding my mother's hand in the kitchen, smelling the delicious aroma of baking bread...

_Don't think about it,_ I said to myself. _It'll only hurt you even more._

"Now, we're going to wrap them in cheesecloth so the dough can rise." I smushed Danny's lump and Grace's lump of dough together and wrapped it in white cheesecloth.

Sakura gave a small smile as she looked up from plucking the grouse. "They're growing fast," she said.

"I don't know, I think I saw Danny eat some of the dough." I sat down next to her and watched her pull away the fine brown feathers from it's neck. "Sakura?" I asked.

"Yes?" She pulled a loose feather from her hair.

"What would you do if I was reaped?" Sakura pulled the feathers faster and hid her face.

"I'm not sure," she said. "I think I would hurt a lot inside, but try to live normally like everyone else. This is our lives we're talking about. I wouldn't want to waste a minute."

"And what if," I said. "You were reaped?"

"Look, I'm going to get some olives outside. Tell the kids to come back and get dressed. The reaping is in a couple of hours, and I don't want to have to take one of them out of prison."

I watched her as she left the shack. _Trying to hide her feelings. I know she can't lie, so she'll try to hide._

I got up and hid my bow and quiver of arrows in a cupboard and locked it. If I was caught with weapons, everyone in my family would be punished for it. But almost half of our income came from my daily hunts, so it was risk we would have to take.'

"Danny? Grace?" I yelled. "Where are you?"

I opened the door and looked out, but was shocked by what was out there.

A man had a sack tied over his head and was handcuffed by a pair of peacekeepers. People were on the streets and yelling at him, throwing rocks, and calling him a thief and liar. I couldn't see his face, but I already knew it was Elliot, the man who worked in the strawberry patches. He was a good person, would never do anything wrong, and it was horrifying to see him be treated like this.

He was forced to kneel over a block, and a peacekeeper in his clean white uniform raised his gun to the back of the other man's head and-

I couldn't watch anymore. Something deep inside me burned with pain, like a searing hot iron was pressed on my chest. Dad. It reminded me too much of what happened to Dad.

My heart aches with _wanting_ to remember, no matter how painful it was.

It was relief day. Most days of the year, we were paid the exact same scarce amount, but relief day was the first day of autumn, when harvest started. We were paid more, fed more, and happier. I was barely 8; barely tall enough to pick corn from it's stalks.

Dad had just come back from a day of work, when six peacekeepers broke into the house, arrested him, and put him on public display for humiliation. I tried to come up there and help him, but I was kicked off and told that my father was going to be executed for stealing food from the market, so we could actually have a decent meal for Grace's birthday.

I hid my face in Sirius's shirt and couldn't bear to look as one shot ran across district 11, scarring my mind and soul forever.

"Lissa? Are you alright? You look a little dizzy."

"I-I..." Suddenly, I doubled over and a bad taste rose in my mouth. I coughed it back in and stood up. "I'm fine. Just a little sick."

Sakura put her hand on my back and I saw Danny and Grace watching me from the corner of my eye.

They didn't know. They never knew who our father was, the wonderful person who tucked me into bed, the person who sang my worries away.

The one who loved me.

"The reaping will start in just an hour! We really should go now." I nodded. Maybe the reaping would take my mind off of Dad...

* * *

"Why do we have to go to the reaping?" Danny asked.

"Because if you don't, you'll be arrested." I held his hand and looked up into the sky. A cloud shaped like a crescent.

"What happens if you're arrested?" he asked.

"You get in a whole lot of trouble, young man."

"Why do we dress up to the reaping?"

I growled, "Because I said so."

That ended the topic.

Once we got to the square, Sirius went to the section assigned for people other and young than 12-18, and Grace, Danny, Miroku, Sakura, and Katie went to their own sections. I held tightly onto Sakura's hand as we walked to the 18-year old girl's section. Here were the eldest and most likely to be reaped. Especially someone like me, who has been taking all the tesserae on myself so no one else will have the risk. Sakura had only ten names in the bowl, while I had fifty.

The square filled up with thousands of people waiting to see who would be the unlucky person to be granted certain death. Usually, it was the eldest, who had the most names in to support their families.

Our escort came down on us like a hawk, and we went right through the film, the Treaty of treason, and the story of Panem. All old things I'd seen too many times. But the one thing that disturbed me the most was the picture of the smoldering ruins of district 13. Still smoking and in rubble-strewn. We saw the photo every year, but it scared me that the Capitol would do that. Would they really kill everyone in a district to win a war?

"Alrighty, the reaping. Let's have our ladies's turn for a chance to be a tribute." I did not know a person could walk so fast in heels. Her movements blurred before me, and had carefuly chosen one from the bottom.

Twenty thousand names. Twenty thousand names. And fifty of those were mine.

She unfolded the paper and paused for a second. My heart was racing, beating so fast I couldn't count the pulses. Or more likely, my heart had stopped entirely.

"Lissa Dragomir." A small smile beamed on her face. "Congratulations, Lissa Dragomir. Please step up to the stage."

Sakura was squeezing my hand so tight my circulation was being cut off. My breathing stopped, my heart stopped, my brain stopped. I was basically dead, and hadn't even gone into the arena yet.

I stuck out one foot and Sakura loosened her grip on my hand. With the slightest graze, all our contact cut off, and she had some sort of dazed expression on her face.

I took fast steps and made my way up there. The escort patted my back and congratulated me. "Thank you, Lissa Dragomir. Now, let's see who the lucky gentleman will be to go with this young lady."

"Tristan Baxwoll. Thank you to our two tributes this year, and may the odds we ever in your favor."

The only thing I knew was that the odds were _not_ in my favor.

* * *

"Swear to me that you won't let them starve." I faced Sirius anxiously and made sure he knew I was serious.

"You know I would never let our family go hungry." He put his hand on my shoulder and I wanted to press against him again, inhale his warmth and his air of happiness. "The only way I'd stop caring for them is if I died."

"Lissa?" I looked at Sakura, and saw new tears ready to fall. "Can you forgive me?"

"For what?" I genuinely didn't know.

"For not volunteering in your place." I looked down at my feet, and wondered why words didn't come easily to me as they came to everyone else.

"I don't want you to apologize," I said. "I want you to care for our family. This is up to you now. There are four hungry mouthes at home added to yours that you have to feed, and I'm not there anymore to hunt or take out tesserae. Please, make sure they eat well, and go to school. I'm putting my responsibilities on you."

"And you," she said. "Have to promise to try."

"Try?"

"Winning won't be easy for you. There are people out there stronger, more talented, and willing to kill and lose who they are. But I know you have a chance. You're good with a bow and arrow. You can feed yourself from the ground. They can't. My only wish for you is that you'll try."

"I will, if you try to care for the kids."

"I swear by it."

"Then I do too."

We held hands again, fixing whatever break happened at the reaping.

But all I knew now was that I would have to fight for my life, and my family's life as well.

* * *

**Do you see that shiny, pretty blue button that says "Review this chapter?" Please press it. :)**


	12. District 12 Reaping

**Can you believe that we're already done with 11 reapings and on our way to the Capitol now? This is the last one! Thank you ****DitzyLightning for Morning-Glory "Mo" Stark. The boy is a bloodbath.**

**That's right people, I am finally active again. That means you can crawl out of the little holes where you hibernated the past weeks, waiting for me to update. I should shut up now. :)**

_-Morning-Glory Stark- 18 years old_

_10, 9, 8, 7, 6..._

_My palms are sweating so hard that I have sweat dripping from my fingertips. I can't see well in the lack of light, but I can make out the faces of a few people that I recognize. The girl from three, and the boy from one. My mind is set on one dark brown pack and a knife nearby. If that pack contains essentials, I can survive easily and hunt by night._

_5, 4, 3, 2, 1..._

_Time is running out. Others already have their eyes on better spoils. I have to get away quickly and assemble my aliiance, if I want any chance of winning._

_Survival of the fittest._

_BOOM! The gong rings in my head, and I dash off my plate. I scoop up the pack and knife, but feel a vibration in the air as a knife flying by just inches from my head..._

I finished the sentence with an uncertain sigh. What would happen now?

"When are you coming out of there, Mo?" Mom peeked through the doorway and gave a small chuckle. "Eta's at the door, waiting for you."

"What!" I burst out. "I forgot we were meeting today."

I climbed of the mattress and peeled out of the white nightshirt I wore. It was sticky with sweat and loose hairs that I might have forgotten to pick off last night and maybe, just maybe the whole week before.

I clambered into a pair of cotton socks as I walked downstairs. Hair in eyes. I blew it away with a puff of air, but it landed on my nose.

"And don't eat too much while you're out, we're having breakfast." Mom pushed me out and Eta gazed at me curiously.

"Where have you been this morning?" she asked. I looked to make sure that the door was locked before I responded.

"In the games," I said. "At least, thinking about it."

Eta pursed her lips tightly. "It might not be good to talk about that in public. Anyway, you're not serious, are you? Thinking about..."

"Have I ever joked about something serious like the games before?"

She looked as if she wanted to say something, but shook it off and grasped my wrist. "Come on, we'll be late if we don't hurry. You know Blye only discounts in the morning."

We both ran eagerly into the square, too early for the reaping but early enough for most of the shops to still be open. I couldn't resist pressing my face into the glass of the bakery, where cakes were displayed at the front. Mom said she would buy one for my next birthday, when I turned nineteen, the pretty one with the pink roses.

Was I eighteen already? I still felt like a child everyday of my life, living with eight-year old brothers, being treated no older than thirteen. What would happen when I became an adult? Of course, I would never have to work in the mines. Dad was from the merchant class, in town, but what would that mean for me?

_The games,_ I repeated. _Don't forget the games._

"Mo? Are you even listening to me?" Eta pulled me along, and sat us down inside the small sweet shop of district twelve. The fragrance of confections in jars and for display filled the room with wonder. I had spent many memories here, as an only child, at least until the boys were born and turned my life around.

"What would you girls like?" Blye, the young woman who owned the sweet shop, asked us.

No one needed to ask, because we've always ordered the same thing, for the past seven years. "Three pieces of chocolate, one white, two dark, and a bag of hard candy to take home," I said.

Blye disappeared behind the counter and Eta fished a silver dollar from her back pocket. I pressed the coin between my forefinger and thumb. Engraved onto the coin was the Capitol seal, an eagle holding arrows in both talons, and a phrases of a foreign language, "absolutum dominium".

Blye returned with the chocolates wrapped up neatly in translucent paper, the candies underneath. I shoved the chocolates in my mouth, trying to savor them, but I unlike every other time I followed this ritual, I couldn't taste a thing. Disappointing, because this might be the last time I taste chocolate.

"Look," Eta said. She gestured towards the shop window and rested her chin on the base of her palms. She was watching a brown-haired boy lifting sacks of flour over his shoulders. Flux. He and his family owned the town bakery. Even though we were both town kids, we never talked or saw each other at school. "He's cute, isn't he?"

"What are you, thirteen?" I said incredulously. "We're practically adults. Or have you forgotten that too?"

"Hm. No wonder you have no friends," she joked.

We stood to leave, and Blye took the coin. The chocolates seemed to melt too quickly in my mouth, when I willed them to slow.

Usually, the air in district twelve was heavy with soot and coal dust. But instead of being smothered with coal, it was _snowing_ coal. At least I thought it was. Small black flakes drifted from the sky, like snowflakes, just seperated by the fact that it was extremely flammable and coming down in the summer.

"Oh, look, dust. It looks just like snow, doesn't it?" Eta said. She raised her palm face-upwards and caught one flake. I almost expected it to melt.

"Mo?" Eta asked.

"Yes?" I replied.

"Were you serious about..."

"Of course."

She stopped with a stunned demeanor. "Don't say that. You are not going to volunteer. I forbid it. Face it, you'll die in like, the first ten minutes."

"I will not." My eyebrows pressed together tightly. "I'm going to have a good time, whether I win or not."

"Having fun killing," she retorted. "Having fun entertaining _the Capitol?"_

"What's wrong with the games and the Capitol? I've heard all the stories, Eta. Nothing can scare me out of doing this at the point where I am."

"Fine. You die and it's your fault." She walked away with her head held high, stubborn just like Eta always was. Something inside me wanted to tell her I wasn't really going to do it. To apologize.

But that would be lying.

* * *

"Mo, when are you going to be done?" Mom was getting irritated, especially with the kids pestering her. "We leave _right now._"

"Just another minute," I said. I pulled the chain of pearls over around my neck but shaked my head in disagreement. It would be better if I didn't stress it too much.

"Coming." I opened the door, and Mom tossed her fingers through my hair.

"My girl," she said. "Already grown-up."

"I'm not that big." I shrugged and put my hand on the top of the banister. "I'm not even fully an adult. Still a girl waiting for her grab at the word."

I took her hand and we walked down the staircase together. Thinking about volunteering made me feel guiltier when Mom was around. What would she do when she finds out. What would I do?

"Earth to Mo, do you repeat?"

"I'm right here, Mom." I clutched her wrist tightly to make sure she was really there, and I wasn't imagining things again.

She loosed herself from my grasp and moved forwards to straighten Bryden's collar. I wanted to hold her hand again, for her to tell me everything is going to be alright, but that also meant I would have to tell her that I'm going to volunteer.

_Why was I even considering it? _I had actually never thought about that before. I brushed the thought aside and let the boys run outside. They were rowdy and untamed, like wild animals if you think about it. Actually, real animals terrorized the streets of district twelve. Only last week, I found a red fox at the back doorstep. I shooed to away with a broom but warned the boys to never, never touch them or get near.

Mom handed an ambrosial-smelling bouquet of dried lavender to me and I stuffed it into my front pocket. "Dried lavender for good taste," she said. She patted the blue ribbon around my wrist. "And a blue ribbon for luck. Now we're finally ready."

I was glad I had the ribbon, because I would need good luck to get through today.

* * *

"Look, there's Eta," Mom said. "Why don't you go say hello to her?"

"That actually is a very bad idea right now." I pushed my way to the front of the eighteen-year olds section, until I was just a meter away from the edge of the stagefront. I avoided her gaze; I didn't want to talk to her right now.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder. "Mo? Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you," I lied. "I just don't feel like chatting right now."

"Don't be mad at me. I just want to protect you."

I took a deep exhale and looked at her.

Beautiful. Brown hair in a tight twist. A white sleeve dress. I wanted to rush forwards and tell her I loved her, tell her I won't volunteer, that I'm going to stay right here, with her.

"Mo?" she asked. "Will you promise that you won't volunteer?"

I couldn't. I'd be lying to my only friend.

"Mo." She pulled my wrist like a small child begging for sweets or toys.

"I promise," I said. I even added a smile to make it seem fake. But I wasn't lying this time; I said it from my heart. I wouldn't volunteer. I promised, and I don't break promises.

Time for Plan B.

* * *

This year, we got a new escort. I'm guessed he was around thirty, but Eta said he was forty.

His black hair was already flecked with strands of gray. He refused to give out his name, age, and where he came from. That only kept us guessing even more. Eta said he was a political prisoner sent from the Capitol to do public services as a punishment for trying to oppose the president.

But then again, Eta made up some of the craziest stories.

Without the slightest spoken word, he stepped on the stage, adjusted the microphone, and coughed. Was he really going to speak?

"Hello, district twelve," he rasped. "Thank you for attending the reapings. Let us see who will be our two tributes this year for the hunger games."

He wobbled with an unsteady gait to the boy's bowl, and pulled one out. "Wayde Halloway."

A slow thunking noise came from the boy's section, and I took a look at the boy tribute.

He was somewhere between fourteen and sixteen, but too skinny to tell the difference. He held a crutch under his arm and his right leg twisted painfully backwards. A cripple. I pitied him; he was most likely I die within the first few minutes of the games.

"Our girl tribute," the escort said. "We will see who she is."

I bit my lip in worry. What if my plan didn't work? What if I wasn't reaped?

The past month, I had entered my name ten more times in tesserae under disguise. I didn't really need the extra food and oil, so I gave it to the community home instead. I was so desperate, I bribed the previous escort, Lina. She was a nice girl, and said she would try to get my name in more times.

But now that there was a new escort, would the reaping still be in my favor?

"Morning...Morning-Glory Stark." My face split into a grin. Eta gasped in horror, and reached for my wrist again. I pulled away from her. She'd understand.

"Thank you, two tributes to district twelve. May the odds be ever in your favor." I shook Wayde's hand firmly. This was a serious day, when everyone would see and make first impressions.

But when I turned around to smile at Eta, she was not there.

* * *

No one was allowed to see me, and I couldn't figure out why.

"Excuse me, is that a brooch?" the head peacekeeper, Newell asked.

"Yes," I replied. "Why?"

"You'll have to remove it. You're only authorized to have one token. Either the brooch or the ribbon, and I'm pretty sure that brooch won't make it past the board." I unpinned it from my gown and handed it to him.

"Why aren't my parents and friends allowed to see me?" I asked him.

He glared openly at me and said, "I think you can answer that."

A sick feel rose from my stomach to my mouth. What had I done wrong?

Of course, I had an answer to that, but didn't want to face the truth. _Yes, Mo, you're hiding quite a lot today, from Eta, from the games, and from the truth._

"Mo!" A loud yell of my name came from the opposite side of the door. "Can you hear me, honey? Are you alright?"

"Mom?" I stood up over the velvet couches and rapped the door. "Mom? Is that you?"

"Excuse me," Newell said. He pushed his way through the door and a bout of shouting, pushing, and thumping came from the opposite side. Someone screamed my name again. A slapping noise.

My stomach churned with worry. What was going on over there?

Newell stepped back inside and nodded. "Problem solved. Time to board the train."

He opened the door, and I saw what had happened.

My mother was gagged and made to face the floor. Two peacekeepers held her down, one had his shiny, black boot on her back. My eyes wided, and I felt the urge to help her. But if I did anything right now, it could be used against me. My heart was aching with hurt, the pangs of need to comfort her. What killed me the most was that she was arrested against her will, and I was walking past her like nothing was wrong.

"Mom?" I whispered. Newell pushed me forwards, and I walked right past my helpless mother.

Nothing could kill me more, not the games, not the Capitol, but simply this one action.

I was already regreting this.

* * *

**I am so, so, so, so sorry if this chapter sucks and you hate me. I promise it'll get better, I just need time and more chapters finished to accomplish that. ^_^.**

******Absolutum dominium is latin for absolute dominion, alluding to the Capitol.**


	13. The train ride to the Capitol

**Wow, we got through those reapings pretty fast. The next chapters are pretty intense, so stay seated at all times during the show. Thank you. ^_^ **

The Train Ride to the Capitol

-Rhymer Wellwood-

Even though I was presented with a feast fit for a king, I do not eat anything.

Meanwhile, Rowan was eating himself sick.

I had been waiting in the dining car for nearly three hours, and had not yet met my stylist or mentor. Malody, the escort, was looking washed-out and had lost the wig, the nails, everything fake about her and had put on a forest green sweater. It turned out her hair was a pretty brown and I thought she looked much better. She was gorging herself on vanilla cake and chocolate.

I poked my flabby crêpe with a piece of silverware and Rowan eyed it quickly. "If you're not going to have that, can I have it?" he asked.

"Sure," I said sarcastically. "Take whatever you want."

I looked around the room for something to do. The funny thing about this train was that every single plate of steel, every single strawberry, every single piece of furniture came from one of the districts.

The luxury couches and beds come from district one. The peacekeepers who guard the entrances are from district two. The computerized security system is from three. The seafood products are from four. The energy that powers the train is from five. The train itself was made in six. The wooden furtiture was made from lumber in seven. The clothes are made in eight. The bread and grain products are harvested in nine. The meat products and animal furs are from ten. The fruit and vegetables are from eleven.

All except for twelve, there are products from all the districts. This shows the Capitol's reliancy to the districts.

And their vulnerability.

The back door of the dining car slammed open. A dark-haired young man stumbled into the car and spilled a glass of water on Rowan's pants.

Rowan was mortified.

I could've laughed, but I wasn't mean or dumb enough to do that _right in front of him_. Rowan's face was turning a shade of scarlet, but bit his tongue and faded to rosy peach.

The guy sat down next to Rowan and pile food onto his plate. "Finally, breakfast," he said. I watched him incredulously as she lavishly spread a layer of butter on a slice of toast.

"Who are you supposed to be?" I asked. Now that he was closer, I could see his facial features better. Long brown hair and green eyes. A high and regal brow. He had a great build, athletic and all. But dang, he was good-looking.

The worst part was, I _knew him._

"Talk later," he said. "Eat first."

I sighed and downed a cup of milk and a handful of raspberries. My gut was not accepting the food, which was way too sweet to be real. Or I was being paranoid.

When he finally seemed to be full, he stood up and patted my elbow. "Come on, Rhymer. A little one-on-one talk with your mentor."

I was a little startled that he knew my name, but obeyed.

"Good," he said. "Because we have a lot to talk about."

_-Diego Orozco-_

My favorite part of the train ride: the roast beef.

Sweet juices gushed out as I chew it, so luscious and soft. Mouthwatering. That was a good word to describe it. In district 6, I never got to eat things like these. No one could afford meat, much less _beef._

It was even enough to distract me from Anna; she looked pretty messed up when she woke up. I tried to talk to her, but she put her hand in my face and sat down to eat.

"So..." I said casually. "How did you sleep last night?"

She faced me with ghastly-looking eyes and heavy bags underneath her eyes. "How well do you think I slept?"

I didn't answer.

I sucked on the meat juices. I swished them around my mouth. I chewed on the bones. I did anything to distract me from Anna's presence. "So, what are we doing today?" I asked Myrric, my mentor.

"Not much, just meeting the stylist, and getting ready for tommorow's big event." He swallowed two more cream puffs. "We can talk about you guy's histories to help me get an idea of what to work on. Diego, tell me about your family."

"Well, I live with with my parents, three brothers, and a couple stray rats in a small tenement. That's the truth, and I'm sticking with it."

"Yeah, you're from one of the typical families. Do you have any skills with weapons?"

"No, not really. I don't do much in my free time, just read or hang out with Anna." I leaned back in the chair.

"Hm. Anna, what about you?" No response. "Anna?"

Anna was face-planted into the fine china plate, and snoring away her misery.

"Anna!" She snapped awake with an alarmed expression on her face. And a red mark on her chin, most likely from sleeping on the dishware.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," she clamored. "No need to check here."

"So, Anna," Myrric continued. "Tell me about your family."

"My family?" Anna scoffed. "You want to know about my family?"

I didn't dare to day a thing.

"I come from a part of district 6 where a family of five has to share a one-room tenement, infested by rats with no running water or indoor plumbing."

"Isn't that exactly what I said?" I commented. Anna tossed a glare at me and I was sorry I said anything at all.

"I live with my parents, my brother, and his wife. And a mangy old cat that my mom can't _help_ but feel sympathy for." Something was wrong. Anna and I were always level-headed, especially in bad situations, like our life right now.

Anna settled down and cut out a slice of cake. I think it was called cake, at least. I had only heard of the stuff, the sweet cream and sugar. All I'd wanted in my life was to take a bit of one before I died. I took a slice too, but it _just_ had to be the one that Anna was getting too. "Excuse me, but I believe that is mine." A smile flickered up her features.

_She's pretty when she smiles_, I thought. In the second I was distracted, she snatched away the cake. I better'd work on focusing. And using weapons. And wilderness survival. And finding food. Yes, I might as well include everything with that.

And one more thing: getting Anna to tell me how she feels for me.

_-Brynna Blythe-_

My soul hurts.

I was stuck with _Mako, _who was chattering crap about how great he was to his mentor, Kell. Even worse, Kell was sucking it up. I don't think I could take another minute of it without exploding in front of them.

The only thing that consoled me now was the fact that it was just minutes before my mentor would get to see me. Kell told me that she was very busy, but would get to see me in a few minutes.

I was eating so much that I felt like I was going to burst. My head hurt, my stomach hurt, my feet hurt.

Did I already mention that my soul hurts?

Kell looked at the clock on the wall and nodded. "I think your mentor is ready for you about now."

I stood triumphantly, as if I had just won a battle against time and walked down the cars, to my mentor's room.

I wondered what he or she would look like. Would it be someone I knew? There were four victors to district 4, but I never took much time to know any of them. Even now, the only I knew was Kell, and he was no good to me.

I knocked on the last door, and a voice inside said, "Come in."

The door was unlocked. All I had to do was push it. But somehow, I couldn't find the will in myself to open it.

_Open this door and everything ends. District 4 is gone. You'll be in a place where you don't belong. _At the time, I didn't understand why, but I really did not want to open this door.

I opened it anyway.

"So, you bothered to come, huh?" An auburn-haired girl that I guessed was somewhere around sixteen-years old leaned back on a couch. Something about her seemed especially dangerous but I couldn't pin what it was.

"What are you, sixteen?"

"I'm thirty-three," she said uneasedly. "I just look younger because of Capitol procedures. I'm your mentor this year. My name is Margaret or Maggie, if you please."

She stood up using a white cane, which was shocking for someone so young. "But you can call me Mags, if that's what youd'd like."

_-Rowan Fightheart-_

I only need to say one thing, and most of you will be pissed off by it: my mentor is a a girl.

She's some smartass blond 14-year old that thinks she's hot stuff just 'cause she's won the games.

I've got my mind set on making sure she knows her place. I've been training since I could stand, and I'm not to be bossed around by a _girl_ three years younger than me. "Hey, sweetheart, got your mind set on what the hell you're going to do with me?"

"Sure, make you shut up." She bared her teeth and locked me out of there. If she ever tried to talk back to me again, she'd figure out what happened to people I hate.

Yeah, I'm pretty confident that she'll get _me_ lot's of sponsors.

_-Lacette Phogan-_

In the dining car, Sorren and I were watching the reapings. He hadn't spoken in hours after the reaping, and I was getting worried about him.

We fast-forwarded the tape to our reaping first and watched ourselves be reaped in horror. Sorren paled after he saw how sad and pathetic he looked, and I became worried after I saw how I trembled in fear on the stage. Well, it didn't really matter. I never expected to make it in the games anyway. All I could hope was that Vite was safe and happy back home.

"Let's...let's watch the reapings in order now," Sorren fought to say. I played restart on the control and we watched the reapings over again to get an idea of what our competition would be, if we even stood a chance of making it past day one. Neither he nor I had been well fed or knew how to use weapons. We couldn't find our own food, or make shelter.

The most memorable reapings were district 3 and 6. The girl from three was so skinny and underfed that it made me sick that the Capitol would dare to kill her on live television. And the boy. Even though he didn't show any noticable facial expression, he looked so sad and hurt. Not unlike Sorren and mine. It was sweet how the boy from six had volunteered to save the girl. I wish someone would volunteer to keep me alive, so Sorren wouldn't be guaranteed death and I would have a better chance of winning. A win for both of us...but then would the boy who would volunteer for me have to die?

It was so confusing, all of this. Why the Capitol do this? I never did anything wrong in my life, and many other tributes didn't either.

"Sorren?" I asked. "Can I lay on your lap?"

"Sure," he said tiredly. I saw that he was getting exhausted by the whole day too already. I rested my head on his legs.

I didn't really like Sorren or anything, but it wasn't like I had anyone better to talk with. He was too shy and kept too many things inside him for us to be friends. I pressed the pink stone of my ring against my cheek and let the hum of the train speeding on the tracks drift me away to a better place, where I wouldn't have to die in the first ten seconds I entered the arena.

_-Rhymer Wellwood-_

I stood with the victor at the end of the observation car, with only ourselves here. "If you forgot, my name is Blaise."

Blaise. That was the name I could never remember. How much time had it been since I had last set my eyes on him? Years, probably. Eight to be exact. I bet he barely remembered me.

"And I'm Rhymer. Nice to meet you," I joked.

"I believe we've already been acquainted," he said.

"What, you're not going to bother to ask, 'how's life been the past eight years'?" I said with an air of skepticism.

"It's been tough without my dad around," he sighed. His eyes focused on a spot in the distance, where mountains rolled past us at blurred speeds. "Harder to keep connections. Especially with the games haunting me. You'll figure out what I mean later."

"Well, that was no excuse for making no contact in all those years." My voice was faltering. I had completely forgotten that is father was dead, and a twinge of guilt rose from a softer part of my heart. "I-I wanted to make sure you still remembered me."

"I remembered you through those years, Rhymer." He leaned in closer to me until I could feel his breath on my neck. My heart skipped a beat. "You were always in the back of my head, especially through the games. I wondered what happened to you. There was just too much happening at once to go back to those times."

"I-I..." I really wasn't sure what to say. He and I were never really close. My dad was the mayor, his was the head peacekeeper. We only ever met at his ninth birthday. Even so, I was just six then. I'll admit, I did think about him too in the following years. When he won the games, he became so popular throughout the Capitol and districts. I was sure he forgot me.

"No need to say anything anymore," he said, and moved in for a kiss.

"Excuse me, but am I interrupting something?" I faced the interferer abruptly and my cheeks burned with embarrasment. Rowan. He'd seen the whole thing. "We've arrived at the Capitol, and the Capitol lady says it's time to leave."

"Fine," I snapped and walked out of the observation car.

Rowan followed behind me and whispered, "Don't trust him. Stick with me and you'll last longer in the arena. It's for your own good."

"Sure," I said. I'd make it clear that I'd be in an alliance with anyone, but Rowan, when I got the next chance.

**If you didn't understand Rhymer and Blaise's story, read the district 2 reaping again.**


	14. The Chariot ride

**R&R! :) The more you review, the more I update! I'm going to go ahead and rush through this chapter because I don't feel like elaborating. The next few chapters will be my favorites, so they'll be longer and more intense.**

The Chariot Rides

Are the cameras on?" A blue-haired woman with glitter-covered skin turned around and faced the cameras. "This is reporter Venecia Swill, for Capitol news, live from the city circle, just meters away from the presidential mansion. Right now, we're about to get a first glimpse at the tributes of the 29th Hunger games."

She paused to straighten her wig and smile. "From the stands on the side, we can see the hostess of the games, Rilanna Remark, and the twenty gamemakers, among them the head gamemaker, Alexander Hastings. Before the chariots arrive, why don't we interview a few enthusiastic Capitol fans?" she suggested.

"Excuse me ma' am, but who is your favorite tribute so far?" Venecia asked a bald woman, her head dotted with tattoos.

"My favorite tribute?" she said. "That's hard to answer, I love all of them, but that little girl from three, she's so adorable. I just want to pinch her cheeks!"

"Thank you for your assistance." Venecia said. The camera man tapped her shoulder and pointed to the road crossing through the city circle. The chariots had began to pour through the road, with Capitol fans chanting their names as they rode on by, and throwing hats, flowers, and gifts. "What good luck," Venecia exclaimed. "The chariots have arrived just on time."

_-Clivia Muse-_

The costume Nilo and I wore for the chariot ride was simple, plain, and ugly; a black shirt and lab coat. Compared to the the other districts, we'd surely be outshined. Why did it even matter? I well knew that we'd never make it out of this one.

We were lined up, the district two chariot in front of us and the district four chariot behind us. Nilo was too timid to hold my hand through the ride, so I hid my palms in the folds of the coat.

While we were preparing for the ride, I rubbed the small silver bracelet that Gram, Daddy's mum, gave to me. If she was here, she would say, "You're too strong to go down without a fight, Clivia," in that booming voice of her's. If only she was here. She used to tell me stories about the time before the games, how hard life used to be back then. I guess it hasn't changed much since.

I took the reins of the chariot in unsteady hands and the gates to the city circles creaked open, flooding sunlight into the dark streets. Even though I used to love the sun, this light feels like a stranger to me, and someone I especially don't want to know.

_-Annabelle Winters-_

It's been too long. Too long since I've heard the sound of applause.

I was draped in long, white robes as soft as kitten's fur. I couldn't help rubbing my cheek against the fabric every now and then, and Dustin couldn't say anything about it. He was just too nice. It was hard to believe he was a career at all. He was too decent to kill someone. I refused to believe it.

I think he may have pitied me after what happened at the reaping, but I don't care anymore. It's all behind me. But if I could have just said one more thing to him...

I clenched Dustin's hand in mine as the chariot rolled forwards. "Ready for this?" he asked me. I nodded. The horses broke into a fast gallop, until I could feel the wind blowing in my face.

I wasn't ready for this. Not to see thousands of people looking me on. When I began to see how many peopl,e were here, I became a little queasy. "I feel sick," I whispered to him. I realized how sweaty his palms were, and wiped them off on his costume.

He put on a smile and waved enthusiastically to ths audience. People leaned over the road, reaching for our touch and throwing flowers. I think someone meant for him to catch it, but instead, the rose whacked the back of his head, making him curse under this breath.

I hid a smile.

At first, all eyes were on us, but the attention moved to the district two chariot, and I had no idea why. I turned my head backwards to see what was going on, and saw what everyone else was looking at. I didn't like it.

The girl from two jumped off her chariot and was shaking hands, and sharing cheek kisses with the Capitol audience. They were going crazy over her, reaching out for her and screaming, "Rhymer! Rhymer!" Our chariot was racing ahead, while their's had slowed and people were paying all attention to them.

Dustin frowned and tried to slow the horses, but they kept at a fast pace. "Why won't they stop?" he asked me.

"I don't know. They're trained this way." He sighed and gave up. I squeezed his palm. "Let's just enjoy this while we can, Ok?"

He didn't get mad. He didn't explode with anger like most of them did. Why didn't he do that? This was not normal.

I was being probably being paranoid, but I knew inside, that something was _very_ dangerous about Dustin Shackles, maybe even more dangerous than the situation I was in.

_-Malia Saunders-_

The president was a nutcase.

I'm serious. She came out wearing a business suit, slim rectangular glasses, and sort of a crooked smile on her face, like she had waited years for this. As did I.

I knew immediately that something was wrong with her. Just the way she stood gave hints about her problem. But no one else seemed to notice. Something about her seemed so familiar but I couldn't place where.

"Do you recognize her?" I whispered to Holden.

He nodded fearfully. What was he afraid of? He was a career. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of demented middle-aged women in glasses. "She was the lady that came to our district for the speech after the killings, remember? And the lady who was on TV, with whatever-was-her-name."

"I knew it!" I yelled. The girl from district district nine patted my shoulder and whispered, "_Shh"_, as if what the president was saying was important.

The next few hours went on with a blur. The speech and letter-reading went by, then we were drawn out of the circle and sent to our new temporary homes; the training center tower. I stuffed my face with food and had gone through a fair day. No anger issues for me.

Enough petit-fours and icing had subdued me for a day. All that would make this perfect would be a nap.

**My guarantee: By the end of this story, each tribute will have approximately the same amount of appearances and POV's. If I haven't done a tribute yet, they'll get a chance, just be patient. :)**


	15. Training 1

**This will be one of my favorite chapters. Enjoy! :) The last chapter was awful. The next four will be my favorite! **

_-Nilo Laurence-_

"What do you think about the girl from one, Annabelle?" Dustin asked. In a matter of seconds, three alliances had formed. I was lucky enough to stick to the biggest one, of six people already. Our first day in the training center had gone smoothly. No fights or death vows yet.

"Nah, she's a skinny little twig. I would break her first, if you didn't," said Rowan, the self-announced leader of the alliance, although most of our loyalties laid towards Dustin. Between Dustin and Rowan was Brynna Blythe (Because her mentor made her), Mako Dorrel, Holden Wise, and me, of course.

Dustin was a natural leader and we would definently stick with him. He was excellent with swords and muscular from training with his father, or so he told us.

Rowan was heavy and tall, just as strong as Dustin but much, much larger. He was handsome, but mean-spirited and for the four people stuck between them, we just barely avoided Rowan's gaze. He was expert with swords as well, and often tried to correct Dustin's technique, and I wasn't sure how much a guy could take of this.

Brynna was smart but not very athletic. She had an edge of sarcasm that made it hard to befriend her. She was Ok with knives but her chances of winning were slim.

Mako was the best-looking and had the most sponsors, even more than Rowan and Dustin. He was strong, could use knives, and people favored his good looks and skill. He had a good chance of winning, if he could just get Brynna to stop hating him so much.

Holden, I'm not sure. He'd stayed quiet the whole time, just asking to join the alliance and glancing over the weapons. No one knew what he used or really what he was. We would just have to see.

I scanned the assortment of weapons and picked up a small back knife. Others were showing off their skills, and how deadly they were. I knew to stay away from the worst. "Excuse me, but do you know how to throw a knife?"

I turned around and faced the girl who'd spoken. Wasn't she from district eight, or one of those places? "I don't know," I said. "Ask the instructor. That's what they're here for, I guess."

She walked with a light step to the knife instructor and asked her how to throw a knife. I couldn't resist looking at her clearly. She was pretty, in a girlish way. Her blond-brown shoulder length hair fell loosely and curled around her ears. She had green eyes and gold flecks in them that reflected in bright lighting. Her most distinctive feature were her glasses. They were the cheap, plastic ones that the district opthalmologist gave for free.

"Nilo?" Brynna put her hand on my shoulder. "We're moving on to the edible plants station. Are you coming?"

"Oh, oh yeah," I said. I took one last look at her before moving on with the rest of my alliance.

I actually managed to pick up some essential skills as we moved through the stations. Dustin emphasized the importance of survival skills over use of weapons, and we all gladly agreed with him. I could tie a knot, make snares out of wire, and find basic edible plants. Maybe I did have a chance.

I only told my secret to one person: Dustin. He was the only person who knew I could reactivate mines and manipulate forcefields. It was my best skill.

But also my greatest weakness, as I would soon discover.

_-Juniper Oihane-_

After spending hours refining my axe skills, I was devastated that no one wanted me in their alliance. I was purposely avoiding Rowan's alliance and trying to get in Diego and Anna's but after I found out who the third person in their alliance was, I gave it up.

I might as well work on using a variety of weapons. I had passed the edible plants test in the blink of an eye and shelter building. I was proficient in those areas, and moved on to the knife station.

The only other person there was a dark-haired girl practicing using a curved, deadly-looking blade. She cut a training dummy across the forehead and slit it's neck.

"Hey, you're pretty handy with a knife," I said. She glowered at me lowly and brushed the strands of black hair away from her eyes.

"What do you want?" she said. She had honey-gold and green eyes, what people called hazel. Long vanishing scars rippled across her arms and little nicks decorated her face.

"I was wondering if you'd want to be in an alliance with me." She appeared a little suprised. Obviously, she hadn't thought anyone would ask her, a dark, intimidating person.

"Only if there's no one else."

"Of course, I'd just be me and you," I said. She put down her knife and thought for a second.

"Ok, that'd be fine," she said. "What's your name?"

"Juniper Oihane. I'm seventeen, district seven." I could read her expressions. She thought that I was small for my age. I knew. "What district are you from?"

"Well, I'm Dayni Graze," she said. "From district five. I'm fifteen. Or so I will be in a few weeks."

The corners of her mouth were upturned. She was hiding a smile. I had made her day by asking her to be in alliance with me. "What skills do you have?" she asked.

I took her hand and pulled her across the training center. "Just wait. You'll be thrilled when you see."

_-Holden Wise-_

Malia was dangerous. More than once, she had threatened me and the other tributes on a painful death. I warned everyone to stay clear of her, and that only made her even angrier. She was hacking away at the training instructors, getting her anger out that way.

I was glad to grab a spot in Rowan's alliances before he shut it off to more people. There was an obvious struggle in power between Dustin and Rowan. I had decided long ago that it would be best if I stuck with Rowan. He needed a person like me, a follower to do the dirty work. I didn't mind. I was born and raised to work hard.

The only problem for me was this skinny, little runt that Dustin thought would be useful. The only useful thing about him would be for an odd killing when not enough people died in a day.

Mako was pretty good with weapons but he followed Dustin, and Brynna came with him, so it was just me with Rowan. I knew an alliance so divided wouldn't last very long in the games.

I had been put on duty for spying on the other tributes, because I'm fairly likeable and have been already trained. The girl from eleven was dangerous when put with a bow and arrows. Juniper, as I had learned her name from Bryn, could use an axe. There was no one else useful.

I didn't understand why the girl from district two, Rhymer, would join someone else's alliance. It made no sense. But then again, I could believe anything after seeing the Hunger games.

* * *

**Next chapter will feature Lissa, Lacette, and lastly...Mo. :) Just wait a little. I should get it up very soon. I will release the alliances on the bloodbath date. Derpity-derp.**


	16. Lunch at the training center

**This is my favorite chapter. :)**

_-Malia Saunders-_

I tossed and turned in the bed of the Capitol training center. _Three days. Three days had passed in the Capitol and I wasn't able to get one stupid ally._

It was that Holden's fault. He made everyone hate me. _I'll kill him. If it's the last thing I do._

I lifted myself up in looked in the glass mirror. My hair bedraggled, deep circles around my eyes, and a bitter scowl on my face. "This is all your fault," I said to my reflection. "I hate you! Why don't you die already? You're dead, dead!"

I ripped the blue glass pendant off it's chain and held it in my palm. So sweet and delicate. Like poor Fae, who's sister had been forced to her death, poor Fae who loved her _so, so,_ dearly. My mouth burned with the sarcasm and hate. I threw it angrily against the wall and it shattered into broken pieces on the floor. "Die, you little bitch. That'll teach you to ruin my life!"

Tears streamed from my face as I realized what I'd done. I rushed to pick up the broken pieces. "I'm so sorry Fae," I cried. "I didn't mean it. Please..."

I was _so _stupid! I'd cut my palm with the broken glass, and cursed out Fae, who I knew really loved me. I dropped the blue glass and curled up in bed, sobbing away my misery. Why did everyone hate me? Why did I want to kill people?

A soft knock at the door interrupted me. "Malia? We're having lunch in the training center. You have to come right now," said Holden in an emotionless voice.

"I'm coming," I yelled back. I stood up and lumbered to the bathroom. There were blood streaks across my hands and hot tears on my face. I washed them away with water and hid the creases and redness on my eyes under a sad smile.

"Hurry, up would you?" Holden complained. I wiped my face off on a soft white wool towels.

As I left the room, I looked back at the broken glass on the floor and pangs of regret burned inside me. But I shut the door, gave Holden a supscious look, and didn't look back again.

_-Morning-Glory Stark-_

In the training center, eight tables had been set up for the tributes to sit and eat at. Alliances were clustered together, and all the loners sat individually or in pairs.

I sat down alone, and wondered why I couldn't find an ally. I wasn't that bad off, was I? I suspected it was because I was from district twelve, or because I couldn't use a knife, or because I couldn't find my own food…

"Hello. May I sit with you?" A small girl, no more than twelve stood behind me. Her curly black hair was plaited into a small braid peeking over her shoulder. She looked sweet and innocent, too young to understand what was happening to her.

"Sure," I said. "What brings you here?"

"I'm Clivia. Who are you?" She had the widest gray eyes that I'd ever seen on a person, but her's were filled with awe and wonder. A child like that shouldn't have been here, seeing all this violence.

"My name is Morning-Glory Stark," I told her. "But you can call me Mo." She nodded and tilted her head.

"I'm thirteen, almost fourteen. I bet you're eighteen. You look old enough to be."

"Right, I am. So, back to my question. What brings you here?" She looked at as if the answer was written on my face.

"I don't have any allies," she explained. "No one wants me. But I'm not afraid of fighting. I can stand blood."

"Why wouldn't they want you?" I asked, although she and I knew the answer well.

"They think I'm too small and weak to be useful. But I know how to survive. I've learned a lot of survival techniques from the training center."

"So, what you're saying is, you want me to be your ally?" I asked her. She nodded. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm still hungry. Want to get some more food, partner?"

She gave me her first smile and said, "Sure, partner."

_-Lacette Phogan-_

I was one of the people going solo, and I didn't appreciate it. Sorren and I decicded to train seperately, so we had gone our own ways. He at least found an alliance with another boy.

I lifted my tray into my arms and gazed around for a spot to sit at. I spotted the boy I'd seen yesterday, the thin, blond, beanpole. I knew he was in alliance but instead, he was sitting alone. I walked towards him and placed my tray across his.

"Hello, I said. "I'm Lacette Phogan."

He gave me a smile and said,"I'm Nilo. You're from district eight...right?"

"Yeah, and you're from three. Why are you sitting alone? Did they kick you out?" I asked.

"No, I just like being alone sometimes. What about you?" Somehow, we started a heavy conversation starting with talking about our families (I felt bad that he had lost his mom), then to Capitol technology (he seemed to know a lot about that subject), and ended with something about our survival skills. He was smart, I could tell, and too nice to be real. People like him deserved better than this.

"Do you miss your mom?" I asked him.

He focused on some point on the far wall and said, "I don't know. I really don't. I don't remember her at all, and how could I miss a person I don't know?"

"If I were you, I'd miss my mom." _If she wasn't such a witch, then maybe I would to, __I secretly thought__._

He eyed the ring on my finger and asked, "Where did you get that?"

"My dad gave it to me before he and my mother divorced." I was extra careful not to mention too much about my mother or the prostitution business. I didn't need more people arrested because of me.

"It's beautiful," he said, and I thought he was going to say something else too, but he curbed his tongue. "Can I hold it?"

I slipped the ring off my hand and reached over to press it into his palm. As I was doing so, his leg barely, just barely brushed against mine. I don't think he noticed, but I did. I faked a cough to hide my embarrassment.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Did you choke on your food?"

"Nothing ," I coughed out. "I'm fine."

_-Dayni Graze-_

"All the families in district seven are pretty close knit," Juniper explained. "We all look pretty much the same, reddish hair and green eyes. Most people are from lumberjack families."

"Really? In five, there's a lot of gang activity and orphaning from accidents at the power plants. I learned to make my way at the community home by collecting scrap metal and stealing. I know it's not right, but that's the way things go." Juniper nodded with new respect and scooped another spoonful of mashed potatoes into her mouth.

"Do you have lots of firewood since you cut the lumber?" I asked her.

"I guess, but only if you come from a lumberjack family, like mine. In my family, it's my dad and me. My sister and mom stay home and clean and cook, all that stuff. What is your family like?"

"My family?" I laughed. A seriousness came on me. "I'd prefer not to talk about it."

She nodded and said, "I understand."

_What do you understand, Juniper? _I thought. _You don't know what I've been through._

"What weapons are you good with?" I asked her.

"An axe, since I'm a lumberjack, or used to be. And I know you're good with a knife." She drank another cup of orange juice. "Have any survival skills?"

"Nah, the only thing I know how to do is kill."

"Hah, I know how to live, and you know how to kill. I guess we'd make a pretty good team, if you ask?" _Since when were we a team? _I blocked out the little thoughts in my head.

"Who knows if there'll be any axes in the arena," I added, and she got a startled look, like she just realized that. "You're different."

"What do you mean," she said.

"You're just…different, I guess. You're not taking any of this death stuff really seriously." I leaned back on the chair.

She narrowed her eyes to little slits. "If you knew anything about my history, you'd never talk about death with me."

"Uh-huh." I got up with my tray. "I'm getting more food. If you'd like to come, tag along. But I'm pretty sure _you _can find your own food." She snorted and stood up. "What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

_-Dustin Shackles-_

I was going to have to get out of here, if I wanted to survive one day.

Rowan and I were secretly sworn enemies, and he would kill me at his first chance. I had Mako, Brynna, Nilo, and Lissa on my side, balancing us out.

Even though most people didn't know now, I had privately invited Lissa into our alliance. Rowan complained for days that we had too many people and I was thinking that I was the leader of the alliance now.

She wasn't sitting with us now, because I'd told her to stay away until we enter the arena.

"Dustin," Brynna said. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing," I replied. Rowan and I sat at opposite ends of our table, so all the other allies could sit between us.

Ever since I had entered the arena, I became ten times more alert. I was always listening for overheard conversation. The girl from three, Clivia, and the district twelve girl, Morning-Glory were talking about something. She couldn't possibly be thinking of being allies with her. It was unsaid for.

They'd be easy to eliminate. But the two girls, one from five and the other didn't know, were more dangerous. They could fight and were the most adaptable of us.

One of the greatest things I'd feared in the arena was that there'd be no food in the cornucopia. That is where Lissa came in. If she hunted, it would feed all of us.

Mako and Brynna had a serious conflict that they refused to reveal to me. I knew they'd been fighting the past few days, and I was a little glad they didn't involve us in it.

Nilo… I wasn't exactly sure about him. He told me his secret, but it didn't seem so big or important. We'd been talking about it, and I knew what I had to do. It would be hard, but our last chance. All we needed now was someone to remove Rowan…

_-Rhymer Wellwood-_

Since most of the other tributes had chosen to eat lunch in the training center, I'd decided to have lunch with Blaise, my mentor. "Am I the first girl you've kissed?" I asked him.

"No, there was that sixteen-year old before you, then this Capitol girl before her, and I used to kiss a lot of girls back in school, before I was reaped, but my first-"

"That's enough," I said. He made himself a cup of coffee and put his arm around my waist. "Careful," I joked. "You don't want to scald me, do you?"

"I think you'd be pretty even if I burned you alive." He kissed me once, and I tasted coffee. It was hot and bitter. "I forgot to ask you, what was that alliance you were in?"

"It's with the tributes from six, Diego and Anna, and the boy from five." He spat out his coffee and looked at me incredulously.

"You were supposed to be allied with your district partner. What happened there?" I shrugged and brushed my hair on the side.

"We had a little fight after the chariots. Don't worry, he's only threatened to kill me once." I got off him and shoveled radishes covered in some sort of sweet red sauce. "You know, now that I've been thinking about it, where is all this food coming from? How is everyone in the Capitol rich?"

"It's coming from district nine and eleven. And to the second question, not everyone is rich." He scratched his chin and his back. (And his rear end) "I believe that you're having your private sessions next. What are you going to do about it?"

"I'm not sure, but I have an idea. And what happened to the hair on the back of your head? When did you last shower? You smell awful. Blaise, where are you going? I still have more to tell you.."

**I can't type anymore. I'll kill myself if I spend any longer on this annyoing keyboard...**


	17. The training scores

**LOL, I almost titled this chapter, "Traing Scorces." **

**To PrincessScissors: You've given me an idea...*evil laugh*...just kidding. I won't really burn her alive, that would ruin the story.**

**You should've seen the dance I did when I read your reviews. Please review more! :D**

_-Anna Bloom-_

I crashed onto the cough and leaned on Diego's shoulder. "How did you do?"

"Not so great, if you ask me. I just want to get this part over with," he said. He clicked on the television. "All I did was throw some knives until they said I could leave." He shivered all over. "I'm going to have nightmares about it."

Something about Capitol fashion, then the program started. They flashed the tributes picture, name, then their training score. I was hoping I'd get a not-too-bad score, in the range of 5-6, but my skills were below that. I clutched Diego's hand and felt his pulse from under the skin.

_Annabelle Winters: 6  
__Dustin Shackles: 10  
_

Ten! That was an impossibly high score, even for a career like Dustin. I wasn't too suprised by the girl's score; she seemed a little lowly around other people, and clumsy with heavy weapons.

_Rhymer Wellwood: 8_

Well done, Rhymer. I applauded silently for her. She got a good score, something in the range of career scores, even though she wasn't one herself.

_Rowan Fightheart: 11_

My jaw dropped to the floor. An eleven! This was the first time a tribute actually got a score so high. Tens were rare, but an eleven! What had he done to get it?

"Did you see that eleven?" I whispered to Diego.

"I sure did. And I don't think anyone will forget so quickly."

_Clivia Muse: 5  
__Nilo Laurence: 5  
_

Average for their district. Nothing too big or impressive, since they were both underfed and malnutritioned.

_Brynna Blythe: 6  
Mako Dorrel: 7_

Again, low scores. We were deficient in careers this year, a relief, but the boy's score was worrying. A seven, for a non-career. Hard to get, so I best should stay out his way.

_Dayni Graze: 7_

Again, another score of seven. Sevens were in the range of career tributes.

_Luka Messire: 4_

I began to worry about this time, but not about the boy's score. Our district was next, and if I could snag a five, I'd be on the way to district six.

_Anna Bloom: 6_

"Good job, Anna," congratulated Diego. "I knew you'd get a good score." I was expecting a decent one, but a six, on the higher side of average. This was good, or at least I hoped it was.

_Diego Orozco: 6_

"Hey, you didn't do such a shabby job either," I said, and ruffled his hair.

He pushed my hand away and said,"No, I did an awful job. I don't deserve a six."

_Juniper Oihane: 8  
Josef Haiden: 5_

The girl got an even higher score than the district five girl, which was just unnerving, because they were allied together, posing as just another threat from the millions Diego, Rhymer, and I had.

_Lacette Phogan: 5  
Sorren Torriali: 4_

Things were starting to revert back to normal, and I hoped they would stay that way.

_Malia Saunders: 7  
__Holden Wise: 9_

Only half of it made sense. The boy was a career, and oddity for his district, but a seven for the girl...Holden warned all of us to stay away from her, and it was starting to fall into place, why.

_Lissa Dragomir: 9  
Tristin Baxwol: 3  
_

"What!" I spat out. The variation was too much. A nine and a three. Total opposites. Two nines in two underdog districts, and other varied good scores. This was not good. I couldn't even remember Dustin's ten. It seemed so meager compared to all the other tribute's scores added up. And they misspelled the boy's name, it was Tristan Baxwoll, not Tristin Baxwol. "This can't be real."

"Well, I sure see it," Diego commented.

_Morning-Glory Stark: 6  
Wade Halloway: 2_

A ridiculously low score, but you can't expect too much from a boy with one good leg. The girl's score made me wonder why she didn't get a high score too if everyone else did as well. Subtracting Diego and me.

The program ended with the Presidential seal flashing once, and the anthem. Diego clicked it off.

"You guys would never guess what happened just now!" Myrric burst into the room with a stunned visage. "The girl from nine, Saffy, was missing the whole afternoon. They found her body slumped out on the pavement outside the training center. Apparently, she commited suicide by jumping from the roof. Can you believe that?"

"No way," I exclaimed. "What are they going to do now, with minus one tribute?"

"I hear they're going to hold an emergency reaping in nine, and put up extra precautions, like a forcefiled around the training tower." Myrric wiped the sweat off his forehead onto his shirt. "And that also means one extra training day for you guys. The arena will have to be delayed a little, so she gets a "fair" amount of training time."

"That's great," Diego said. "I mean, not for the girl, you know?"

"She had a reason for doing it." I put my hand over Diego's. _You know what I mean, _I said through my expressions.

The girl's score was etched into my mind. _Six. _The number of my district. My training score. If they girl knew she got a decent training score, would she have stayed alive? Or was she doomed to this fate? My head swirled with "What ifs?"

"Don't think too much of it," said Myrric. "Just focus on our plan, stick together, and do your thing, Diego. And one more thing, Diego."

"What?" he asked.

"Tell Blaise to come to our floor ASAP. We need to have a little talk about Rhymer's plan, mentor to mentor." He turned to leave, but paused to look back. "And one more thing."

"What," I said impatiently.

"Straighten those couch cushions. You know I hate untidiness."

**The next chapter will the district 9 emergency reaping, all in the POV of your new, tribute, Aloutte Mend from bernielove89. I felt bad about not including her so she will be added. It will be extra-extra brutal and long. After that, we have our interviews, my favorite chapter, back in the normal style I write in. :)**


	18. District 9 Reaping

**I want you guys to meet your new tribute, Aloutte Mend, from district nine! Once we get her settled, she'll be just another tribute, but with a tougher situation than most. So give a round of applause to Aloutte Mend! R&R!**

***silence* Anyway, you guys are the best reviewers EVER! Keep it up!**

District 9 emergency reaping

_"I'm done," she said, closed her eyes, and never opened them again._

_-Alouette Mend- 17 years old_

On the morning of Saturday, June 16th, I was the first to wake up in my house, at exactly 6:00 am. It wasn't that hard because it was only Papa, Granddaddy, and the boys in the house. Papa had worked overtime at the grain fields, Granddaddy always overslept, and the boys, well, they could sleep through a war. I had to crack my rifle on their heads daily to get those boys awake. Fifteen and eighteen; both of them couldn't get up by themselves, unless they smelled something good cooking downstairs.

I slid down the banister and lit the gas cooker. Something new would be good for Nikiti and Ashki, who's hunger never ended. I cracked six eggs into a bowl and mixed them thoroughly. Because I was the only girl in the Mend house, everyone expected me to cook, wash, clean, sew, and do assorted domestic work, here and there, everywhere, work, work, work. I might've worked just as hard as Papa, who labored seventy hours a week as a Plower.

I wiped slices of bread onto the egg and sprinkled them spices. New was usually good in this household, especially when it came to food. Papa was always the cook in this house, but taught me all his secrets so I could feed two men and two very-hungry boys.

Footsteps banged down the stairs. "What are you making, sweetheart?" asked Papa. I leaned over and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm not sure yet. But it certainly smells good." I fried the slices of toast on a skillet. When they were sufficiently browned, I flipped them onto a plate. "For you, Papa." I slid the plate to his seat.

"Is that eggs I smell?" Nikiti barged in and gave me one of his best smiles. "One hot plate of egg toast, please."

I reluctantly gave him a plate, with one less egg toast. "Remind me to get a wife who can cook when I'm out of here, 'kay Ali?" Of course, Nikiti was the only person who called me "Ali", after our deceased grandmother.

He inhaled the scent of fried toast, but didn't eat any, for Papa's sake. "When can we eat?" he complained to Papa.

"When your brother and your grandfather awaken. We will wait for them, as a family." Papa smiled pleasantly, like he was enjoying Nikiti's suffering, but Papa wasn't mean enough to do that.

"Fine, I'll get them up. I'm starving." He stomped back upstairs, and came back down several minutes later. I made ten more egg toast slices, poured apple cider, and we were set for breakfast.

Nikiti and Ashki came down (probably because of the food) and seated themselves. Typical. I didn't think they'd dare to awaken the "all-powerful grandfather" who slept ten hours a day and spent the rest of the time watching ancient recordings even older than Panem itself. "Is this important?" asked Ashki, fifteen and born sickly.

"Of course it's important!" interjected Nikiti. "It's about food. Food is important, you lazy bum."

"Where's granddaddy?" asked Ashki.

Papa chuckled and clasped his hands together. "Well, granddaddy has apparently slept in today, so we will have to have our daily prayer without him."

I put my hands together, closed my eyes, and lowered my head. "Thank you, Carla, for watching over our family and watching over our children. May you be at rest. Thank you Grandmother Ali, for this good food we have worked for, pro fide et patria," he said, and finished the prayer.

My mother. We haven't even discussed her yet. There isn't terribly too much to know about her, just that she died when I was four years old. No one will tell me how she died, not even Nikiti remembers. Papa was always sensitive about the subject, and I thought I'd be insensitive to ask him. Papa said I looked just like her, the same wavy brown hair and brownish-grren eyes. Even the two freckles on my cheek. But my skin, that was a different matter. I had a dark complexion, like Papa, like the natives that lived here before Panem rose. My mother was white-skinned.

"Now can we eat?" Nikiti asked.

A warm smiled spread across his face. "Of course." A knocked rapped on the door. "Who could that be at this hour?" he asked. He stood up and opened the front door.

Outside, were two impatient-looking peacekeepers.

* * *

"We are taking custody of all girls twelve to eighteen years old in district nine," explained the tall peacekeeper. "If you have not yet heard it, I will repeat the information to you. The district nine girl has not met Capitol standards and a new girl tribute must be reaped to fufill her place. All girls will be kept in the town square for the reaping, if she is not reaped, she will be escorted back here. You are not to interfere or view the reaping, as it will be a private session. All who violate this will be detained and interrogated for answers."

Papa looked too stunned to answer, but clicked into motion and put himself between me and the man. "You will not take my daughter," he said. "You no right to enter our home and take custody of anyone living in my household."

The man gave Papa a dark gaze and reaped, "You are not to interfere, sir, on penalty of detainment. I have every right, by the president's orders, to take anyone I wish."

Papa was about to argue his case, but I pulled in front of him and let the peacekeeper grab my am. "Please, Papa. Just stay here. I'll be alright. I can take care of myself." I touched his cheek lightly and let the two men escort me out.

The girl tribute was dead. She was _dead. _That put us at twice the risk. I knew because the only Capitol standards for a tribute is that they're alive. This was not supposed to happen. Why did she choose to die then? It was not fair. I thought I was safe for a year. But now...

We walked from our street, where other girls were being escorted as well. They carried their heads low and shamefully. I wanted to say something inspiring, but my mouth went dry. Nothing to say. Nothing at all.

I walked until my feet ached into the town square, then got to my section. _I guess it'll be a normal reaping, _I thought inside, which was a mistake. A huge mistake. A fatal mistake.

The president was there to reap us herself.

* * *

"Hello, young ladies," she said, and I didn't think anything was wrong. She could've been someone's mother. She was fairly young, attractive, but intelligent-looking. In a khaki-colored skirt and white blouse. Her voice was hinted with a Capitol accent. "Welcome to the district nine girl's reaping. As you know, our former girl tribute has passed away recently, so we will need a new girl contender to make her place in the games. I'm sure many of you are very excited for this, as it is your second chance at redemption."

"But," she continued on. "I feel like this district has not been adequately punished for it's crimes. You have not yet submitted to the will of Capitol, and I am here to personally make sure you do. Each girl will be asked for how many beatings she would wish to brave, a number from one to thirty, and receive that many beatings. The number of beatings you receive is the number that will be removed from the reaping bowl. No volunteers are allowed this year, and everyone must have at least two names left. The minimum is one, the maximum is thirty. The reaping will start once every girl has been given a chance to remove names from the bowl. All twelve-year olds may return home, as I am kind enough to leave you unpunished. Thank you for your services to the Captiol, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

I was too shocked to speak. She was going to make burly men beat up girls.

The entire twelve-year old section emptied out, as girls ran home to tell their families the awful news. There were jealous glares from the other sections. Six lines filed up and I numbed got in line for my beating.

In the front of the line stood a small girl, probably no more than thirteen. Her hair was loosely braided but tangled into little brown knots. The peacekeeper rolled up his sleeves, and she said," Thirty beatings," brave as she could make it.

He slapped her face, and she went straight to the ground. Others joined in on the suffering, kicking her until she was numb. A bone cracked, and she curled up more to protect herself from the shower of beatings. The peacekeepers punishing her laughed cruelly. I was going to be sick if I kept watching this. No one was counting the beatings anymore, just randomly kicking her to their pleasure.

There was a rousing of gasps as they moved away from her to beat the next girl. The little girl was twitching all over and covered in bruises from her head to toe. She was too in pain to try to cry. No one stepped out to help her.

I stepped out of line and lifted her in my arms. I was a strong girl, so I could carry her easily. I leaned her body against the stage and wiped the blood on my shirt. "I thought I could take it," she wheezed, and looked deeply into my eyes. "I thought I could show them that nothing could break me."

She buried her head into my chest, and I patted her back. "You're safe now. You couldn't have had more than three names in that bowl, so you're at the minimum. Safe," I whispered.

"I don't care," she said, heaving on her chest. "I just want to show those people I'm strong. I guess I was wrong."

"Don't bite off more than you can chew. There will be time for fighting later, but not now." But suddenly, she was wracked with coughs, struggling to breathe. She spluttered out blood and saliva in a frenzy. I pushed my hands against her chest but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. She had lost the will to live.

"I'm done," she said, closed her eyes, and never opened them again.

They moved her body to the entrance to the square, so she could gaze at the girls and frighten them to death. It wasn't right, but there wasn't much any of us could do. I got back in line, kept my head low, and hoped I wouldn't be next.

Finally, it was my turn. I was a little suprised at the person who'd inflict it on me. An older peacekeeper. In his forties, I guessed. He wasn't smiling, nor enjoying this at all. "One," I managed to cough out. "Just one, please."

He murmured something under his breath, then half-heartedly shoved me. It was nothing. Barely a push. I liked him immediately.

But since it was an unspoken secret kept between us, I pretended to fall over and be in pain. I stood up, and I swear, as I walked back into my section, he whispered, "Good luck."

* * *

Her. The president. She was smiling at us like it was nothing. Like thousands of innocent girls weren't beaten to submission. Like one girl wasn't beaten to silence.

"Now, we will choose our district one girl tribute. Cross your fingers, girls, because this will be a tough choice." She bent over and randomly chose a name form the top. She unfolded the tiny paper containing the fate of one person, paused for a dramatic effect, and gave out the name.

"Alouette Mend. Please step up to the stage, Alouette Mend." My heart was in my throat. I couldn't find the words to say, or a breath to breathe. By instinct, I walked up the stage and returned the president's cheerfulness with a stormy glare. "Let's have a round of applause for our district nine girl tribute!"

No one clapped, or dared make a noise. The president's smile melted off her face, to my great pleasure. I stood up straight, faced the crowd of girls, and smiled defiantly. I would not submit to his woman, nor the Capitol. Another mistake on my part. She'd be sure to make me suffer now.

* * *

"I'm sorry!" I sobbed. "I should've taken more names out. I should've done anything to get reaped."

"It's alright," Papa said, holding me against his chest. "I still love you. You know that."

"But I-" He put his large palm over my lips.

"Shh...it's alright now." His tone was hinted with fear. "There's nothing more that you or I can do."

"I'm going to miss you. Even if I come back or not." My voice was muffled under his shirt. "I don't want to end up like Miguel. I don't want to die."

Miguel was my sixteen-year-old cousin, who was beheaded on the first day by the girl from district six. I was seven then, and didn't fully understand how the Hunger games worked. "My power is within a certain limit," Papa said. "And sometimes, life is not fair. Was it fair that your mother died?"

"No," I mumbled. "But I don't even know how she died!"

He winced for a second, then pressed my hands against his "Alouette? I want you to understand that your mother was a good person. Do you understand?" I nodded for him to continue. "She tried to do what was good for us. What I want you to understand was that she was desperate. Very desperate."

"One day, one of the gamemakers for the Hunger games was removed from the job, if you know what I mean, so there was a job opening. I told her not to, Alouette, that it was a bad idea and would never work out for us in terms of a family. But she insisted that she took the job. It was high-paying. She was accepted into it, and later rose to head gamemaker. Carla had the best ideas. She remained in her position for five years. Then, the president decided to replace her, and-"

"Let me guess," I said. "They killed her?"

"No, they promoted her," he breathed. "To the Capitol treasurer. But to do so, she had to cut off all links with family."

I looked at the carpet. It was made of fine dyed-blue polyester strands, like a wool sweater. I had a blue wool sweater like this. It was my favorite, but had a little hole from moth larvae. "She rejected it. And because she had already received access to the Capitol's private files...she was removed, or as they told me."

"I'm done," I said. He stuffed a circular object in my pocket. I pulled it out, and it snapped open.

An locket in the shape of a flat ellipsoid; inside were two photos, one of Papa in a younger time and one of my mother. This was as old as we would ever remember her. "We had it made shortly after we got married," he explained.

"I'll win for you, Papa." I slipped the chain of the locket over my neck. "I promise I will. I'll make all of you proud, Miguel, for mom, and for the kids."

"You don't have to win to make me proud," he said. "You've already done that."

"I love you!" I said to him as the peacekeeper pulled him out. "Tell Nikiti and Ashki I love them too!" The door closed, and now, I would officially have to fight for my life to make it out of here, anywhere but here.

_I'm sorry mother,_ I said to the photos. _But a few things are about to change._

**The girl who jumped from the training tower was a bloodbath, not Malia Saunders. Malia Saunder is district ten, this is district nine.**


	19. Training 2

**All of you should have thought the last chapter was excessively brutal. Maybe I should've put up a warning that said "Warning, not for the easily offended or sensitive." Don't worry, you'll hear from President White and Alouette soon, I'm not done with them yet. Oh yes, you'll hear from them very soon...**

Training part 2

_-Alouette Mend-_

As I entered the training center, every pair of available eyes were on me. The train ride had been bad, but this tens of times worse. They watched me as I walked through the stations. I couldn't pay attention to learning, because I was too distracted looking over my shoulder for people watching me.

Some brute of a boy told me, "Don't even bother to try to fight me. You'll lose anyway. Everyone knows that. You have no sponsors, or allies. Just give in already."

A girl asked me if me why I wasn't upset that I'd been reaped. Another was busy glaring at me from the corner. I ignored all of them. They knew nothing about the terror I'd witnessed, just three days ago. No one would. It was kept a Capitol secret, only known by some officials and specially selected peacekeepers.

I picked up a knife from the knife-throwing station, and felt it's grip. A black-haired girl there lifted one, two, three knives and threw them with extreme accuracy. They all hit critical points. I wasn't sure how to throw a knife, so I tried it the way that felt comfortable. I threw the knife, and it smacked into the wall at least an arm's length away from where I meant for it to land. I lifted another knife.

"What, you don't know how to throw a knife?" scoffed the other girl. The knife I'd been holding clattered to the floor. I didn't know what to say. It was like the words had been stolen from my mouth. "Everyone can throw knives. What's wrong with you?"

I gasped and ran to the nearest restroom. Just those words stung my eyes like onions. I curled up into a little ball on the floor and sobbed into my hands. The tears streamed from my eyes like a heavy deluge, letting out the pain of watching that girl's limp body sprawled on the ground, struggling for life, being unfairly spared myself, and that I have a strong chance I'll die in the first five days of the games.

It was too much stress for one person to soak in at once. I'd die of grief if I did. And it was all her fault...that woman. She was a monster, of all proportions. She killed a child, she killed my family, and she killed my mother.

I wiped away the tears, but they came too fast and hard for me to stop. "I'll kill you one day, President White. You know I will."

The door of the restroom opened, and my heart stopped in fear. It was just the boy from district twelve. He had only one leg, and the good one rested on a crutch, a mixture of metal and plastic. "Are you alright?" he asked me. He held out his hand. I took it.

He strained on his crutch to help me stand up again. "I just saw you running and crying, so I was a little worried." Such a selfless person, who worried about others, even in the eyes of death. His eyes were blue, but a soft blue, like a dulled tone of the sky.

"I'm fine," I said, and realized that I'd stopped crying. "I just broke down a little. It happens."

He nodded understandingly and patted me between the shoulder blades. "Let's get you cleaned up huh? You're kind of a mess."

_-Diego Orozco-_

"She looks a little lonely, don't you think?" Anna was alluding to the girl from nine, the new one. She wasn't bad looking, nor rude, nor arrogant but all the other tributes seemed to find something interesting in her. The boy from district twelve, Wade, or something like that, was talking to her.

"I don't know, she looks fine to me." The girl was smiling, a good sign. Anna stood up. I was guessing she'd ask the girl to sit with us.

She walked over, but to my suprise, asked, "Would you like to be in our alliance?" Not what I was expecting.

The boy replied, "Yes!" But Anna was confused.

"I'm sorry, but I didn't mean you, just the girl," she said. "I just thought you looked a little alone."

"Sure," she said casually, and rose. The girl looked as if she wanted to say something to the boy, but hesitated and it was too late. She and Anna walked to our station. The girl regard me with interest and sat down next to Anna.

"I'm Alouette Mend," she explained, held out her hand for me to shake, and I took it. "You-you know, district nine?"

"Well, I'm Anna, this is Diego, and that's Rhymer way over there, talking to that boy." Apparently, Anna had elected herself the spokesperson for our alliance. "Wait, what's Rhymer doing over there? Rhymer!"

With that, she marched over to Rhymer. "I guess it's three girls and you now, huh?" she said.

"Yeah, it's not so great. Especially with Rhymer. She's not always in the best of moods at times, and we don't talk a lot, she's always with her mentor." I watched Anna and Rhymer talk to a younger boy.

"You like her, don't you? That girl, Anna."

"How did you know?" Did I do something embarrasing? My skin color hadn't changed, and there weren't too many things that could give off _that_ much information, especially private things.

"You kept staring at her eyes, like there was something important to see there. And you keep trying to take her hands. But she treats you more like a friend. Am I right?" She made a sly smile.

"You're smart. A little too smart. But don't tell her. She's picking up the hints. I want her to tell her myself." She nodded moved her own hair over her shoulders. "We've been friends for a long time. I guess you could put it that I volunteered so help her in the games."

"But you'd die in the attempt."

I shrugged and said, "I don't really care. My life wasn't so great, I just lived on for Anna's sake."

Anna finally came back from talking to Rhymer and said, "Well, guys, I guess it's just us training now. Rhymer insists that she train alone. What shall we do first?"

"Well, knife throwing, of course!" said Alouette, as a new light opened in her eyes.

_-Annabelle Winters-_

Swing, strike, retreat. Swing, strike, retreat. Swing, strike, retreat. Those were Rowan's machine-like movements with his sword fighting an imaginary opponent using unnerving precision. He had done it nearly fifty times now, yet wasn't fully satisified, adding to the effect, the occasional grunt.

"Will you ever be done?" I asked him. His focus was totally on some imaginary wisp in the air like it was more important than me.

"Hold on," he mumbled, and changed his pattern. Now it was a slash, slide, and raise, and repeat. I sighed under all the pressure of my competition against time. I had one day to learn how to use a weapon decently. I could find food in the woodsnow, live off the land but still couldn't use a weapon, or find myself an ally. I made a deal with Rowan that he'd teach me how to use a sword and knives and I'd help him if he ever needed it. It was definently worth owing a person, if he could just get to the point.

He grumbled, wiped his face on a towel, and stood in front of me. "Fine. I'll teach you a couple things I know. But after that, you're on your own, okay princess?" I didn't appreciate that he had called me "princess" and wanted to correct him, but that's just not the thing you say to a guy like Rowan.

He grabbed my hands, which definently didn't make me feel any less comfortable, then placed my right hand on the grip of the sword. "Hold it like this," he instructed. "No, not like that. Get a good grip near the cross-guard. That's the pommel, not the crossguard, and keep your fingers away from it. You're almost there, now raise it up. You're not raising it enough!"

He put his meaty-drumsticks of hands over mine, and raised the sword until it was almost above me. I noticed that he had long fingers, preferable for using a sword. "Are you paying attention?" he demanded. My hands were getting shaky and my face turning flushed. I was uncomfortable with him touching my hands, and being so close.

I dropped the sword as he was releasing tension. It collided into the floor with a mighty crash. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to kill me?" he asked me. "Why can't you hold onto a sword without me helping? You know what? You're hopeless." He stormed away, and I was left with a sense of helplessness.

"Wait!" I yelled after him. "Give me another chance. I can use knives better than swords. Come on."

He stopped and glared at me. "What makes you think I'll help you?"

"Because I said so!"' I snapped. "We had a deal. I might suck at swords, but get over it. You can't just run away because you're angry I made a mistake. Life isn't going to stop because it's awful and not worth living. So stop running and fight me!"

At first, I was worried that he'd be even angrier that I'd yelled at him like that, but a low smile spread on his face, and said, "Well, I see you're starting to get some grit under your tongue. Fine, I'll show you how to use a knife. But you have to listen to what I say, got it?"

I nodded. It was a necessary deal, on the case of my life.

The next hour, he showed me the handle grip, the blade grip, and worked on throwing until my arms ached. I was starting to get good, too. I could hit a radius of one foot from the spot I'd originally aimed to get at. "Hold the blade," Rowan instructed. "Don't worry, it's safe, as long as you don't squeeze it. Then you'd slice your hand open, and I'd laugh."

We worked on three throwing styles, and I was getting pretty good. "You know what?" he said. "I think you're ready for even the games now."

The Hunger Games control center

_-Alexander Hastings- _(Head gamemaker, of course)

Today was that day. It was in inexplicable feeling, something of great wonder. But that day, I just knew that the arena that I'd worked on bit by bit, over the past three months, was superior. Exciting, fast-paced, and original in one. Only the most trusted gamemaker's eyes were allowed to see it, and was protected by layer and layer of passwords. All I need now was for the President to approve it.

I had downloaded it onto my personal pad, and held it protectively in my grasp. I knocked once on her private office room. There was a little nameplate on the door that said, "President Iris White," and another below it that said, "enter at your own risk." She must've had them personally engraved. I was sure to check that I'd come in on visiting hours, when she took in important guests and documents. "You may enter," she said, and I pushed right through the door. Obviously, there were hidden cameras implanted in her furniture, and a large red button on the wall I'm sure did something very bad to people she disliked.

"Hello Alexader," she said without looking up. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I've got the arena finished, just need you to approve it." I handed it over to her. "Just open that file, please, and it should unfold."

The file opened into a three-dimensional hologram of the original. "I see. Forestland, a mountain, rivers, the works. But what is this?"

I grinned and raised the projection. "That's the part I want you to approve. Your approval would get it past the board in a flash." She nodded approvingly, and entered her name into the corner.

"It's an excellent idea, if you don't manage to kill them all on the first day. I trust that you won't?" I shook my head in agreement. "It's extremely risky, and I advise that you don't do it. But if you insist."

"Thank you, Miss White." I backed out of the office and excitedly ran back downstairs. My plan was going perfectly. They would enter the arena and bang, they wouldn't know what hit them. This was why I loved this job.

I thought about all the former gamemakers, looming before me with grim endings. There were seventeen in total, not including me, but only three were still alive today. One of them was in hiding from the president, one retired, one promoted, and all the rest "mysteriously" dead. I think we all knew what happened to them.

Things would change a lot around here, once I got that arena set up in the control center. It would change the future of the games forever.

**When many of you read Alouette's POV and wonder who those rude tributes are, don't be too suprised if they're your own. You know who you are, readers.**

**That's right...the next chapter is the interviews, then poof, they're in the arena. It's going to be the most dramatic, most heart-breaking (Ok, not true), and longest chapter I've ever written in one. Everyone that hasn't gotten a mention or an appearance or a POV in a while will magically appear in the next chapter. **

**And more of your president too. :)**


	20. The Interviews

The Interviews

_-Brynna Blythe-_

"Try to mild your tone," Kell suggested. "You'll sound less like someone's who's drank sour milk."

"My name is Brynna Blythe, I'm fourteen, I'm from district four. I hate the Capitol and the Hunger games and you too. Do I need to slow so you can write that down?" I said rancorously. I was close to spitting into his eyes about now. Three hours of last-minute interivew training did not help.

"I'm not sure about you, but we're going to have to change your angle. Honest obviously does not work with you, nor does innocent, polite, and humble. How about shallow and gulible? I'm running out of ideas here."

"How am I supposed to act 'shallow and gullible'?" I complained. "You're not teaching me anything so far."

"It shouldn't be so hard for you," Mako added. "Since you're already shallow and too gullible to learn anything."

"I am not shallow! How could you say that?" I huffed. "What about you? You're...you're..."

Mako stood up and pointed to the door. "Get out. You're just a pain in the rear end for all of us. I'm tired of trying to help your hopeless cause."

I stood there, befuddled. Too shocked to say anything, I moved to the exit. "I hate you," I hissed to him.

When I was too far to reach him, he yelled, "Good for you!" and slammed the door shut.

I ran for the elevator. I had to get away from this madness. I punched the training center button, level 13, and watched the glass elevator slide up the floors. I passed by the other districts, and watched them through glass doors. When I reached the training center, I stepped out and found the doors open but the lights off.

I snatched a knife from the rack and ripped open a dummy. This was Mako, and I swore I'd cut him open. I was oblivious to any alliance between us. I'd be the first to kill him, the first to taste his blood. "You will die," I whispered. I kicked the dummy over and and punched the stuffing out, ripping open any seams holding it together.

"You know, you're not supposed to be here." I didn't need to turn to see that it was Mags. "The training center is going to be cleaned out and locked later today."

"I couldn't help it." The dummy laid helpless on the floor, stuffing pouring out of it's chest and neck.

"I know. Kell told me what happened. Are you alright?"

I kicked the dummy aside, then rubbed my hands on a dry cloth. "I'm not sure. If you don't count the bloodlust, then I'm fairly good."

"Bryn, don't be mad at Mako. He's been under pressure too. And besides, you're the one who acted like a bitch." She was proud-looking, and I knew she was telling the truth.

"Don't call me Bryn. Only my friends and family call me that." She seated herself next to me.

"Mako calls you Bryn." I moved away from her. "Brynna, why do you hate Mako so much? What did he do to you?"

I looked out the window, to the ocean of buildings outside. The silvery-sheen seemed to ripple in the blinding midday sun, like waves. "He and I go back a long way. And not in a good sense either. I wish it wasn't like this. Maybe then I wouldn't have to keep his secrets."

"Secrets? What secrets?"

"I owe Mako my life. And there's nothing more I hate in this world than owing someone. We haven't talked or seen each other in years but now…" The world was tiny in this little sphere of reality. But surely there were other places than Panem?

"Tell me. That's the only way I'll ever understand what the heck you're talking about." So I did. I told her about how Mako and I met, how I came to owing him, and why I hate him. She gave me the occasional nod to move me along.

"Even if you hate him so much, you're going to have stick with him. I want you to stay with him." She didn't get the point of the story at all.

"How am I supposed to stay with him if I can't even stand being in the same room with him?"

"I have an idea. But you can' t tell anyone. Not even Mako himself. I trust that you can do that?" Naturally, I'd do whatever she suggested at this point.

"What is it?" She leaned over and whispered in my ear. It was the most dangerous idea she'd ever thought of. But heck, if it worked, it worked.

_-Diego Orozco-_

My stylist was adding her finishing touches to my interview outfit. A gray suit and white collar. She had even thought of using the lily Anna gave me as a boutonnière. It made a nice finish, and she even figured out how to make the scraggly hairs on my head lie straight and look fuller.

I wasn't too nervous about the interview because I already had it planned out, but then again, anything could happen.

The door to the backstage opened lightly. "Diego!" It was Anna, obviously. "You look great. Are you ready to go?"

I turned around to leave, but gasped when I saw Anna. She was loosely fitted into a silk grecian pastel blue dress, as pale as ice. Her light brown hair was plaited into a fishtail, brought behind her ear and over her shoulder. A light blush brought out the amber in her eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked worriedly. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Nothing, except you're a total knockout. Anna...you're beautiful," I said as if it the first time I'd realized it. She looked at the floor tiles to hide her true blush. I was too embarrassed to show my face either. _Stupid, stupid! _Why had I said anything at all?

"What are you two doing here? You're supposed to be out there, backstage." Myrric interrupted to find us looking away from each other, flushed. "Get out there and make me proud! The interviews don't do themselves."

_-Annabelle Winters-_

I'm put into a gown similar to my chariot outfit, white cotton in a pure white dye. I know I'm first for my interview. I can see thousands of people out there, waiting to feast on me. It's a truly terrifying sensation.

Rilanna was talking to the Capitol audience about clothes. About the latest fashions; all she seemed to be able to talk about is fashion. She herself was wearing a sparkly, silver dress, a slit in the side to let out her thighs, and her signature red lipstick. High heels made her a foot taller, at almost over two meters. She was gorgeous, in a Capitol sense.

"Why don't we have a round of applause for our first tribute, Annabelle Winters!" That was my sign. I stood up, Dustin gave me a good-luck shake, and I walked out from behind the curtains of the stage.

Two futuristic silver swivel chairs had been set on the stage, one for me and one for Rilanna. "Hello, Annabelle. I'm glad to see you're looking especially bright today. Speaking of weather, how is the weather in district one?"

"It's usually good during the summer, but can get rather windy at times." I wasn't faltering as I spoke, a good sign.

"As we can all see from your reaping shot, you volunteered for a young girl, not to win glory and fame, but for the girl herself, as your father pleaded better judgement. Is there a particular reason for this?"

I hesitated to speak, as this was highly confidential information. "The girl's name is Rosalind Waters. She's twelve years old, and my best friend. I love her enough to give my life for her. All I want is for her to be safe, back in district one. I want everyone to know that I did this on my own, beyond better judgement. I don't there was anything better I could've done for her."

"Do you feel as if you did the right thing?" She was speaking in a hushed tone, on a dangerous topic.

"I don't think I did the right thing, Rilanna. I know I did the right thing."

"And what would be the right thing, in this case?"

"I believe the right thing to do what your heart tells you to do." There were some murmurs of approval from the audience.

The buzzer went off, cutting my session off. "Well, my heart tells me that time is up. Sorry to cut it short, but those are the rules!" The audience clapped enthiastically as I walked out, holding my head high and carrying a sense of pride.

_-Rowan Fightheart-_

"Now, Rowan, about that training score." Rilanna was hinting to my superior eleven, naturally. "How did you react when you got an eleven, the very first eleven in the Hunger games?"

"I wasn't too suprised, to be honest, Rilanna." This aroused some suprise by the audience. "As a person seeking the money and fame of winning, I expected nothing less than the best."

"Of course, of a strong and well-built young man like you. Now, why don't we talk about your 'rivalry' with district one tribute, Dustin Shackles. I see you're in an alliance with him, from the training clips, but what is your true relationship with him?"

"He and I are definite competition for each other, but I'm not personally seeking out to kill him or anything. We're just seeing who'll last longer. But that the answer is quite obvious, you see. He has nothing on my sword skills or strength. I fully expect to win."

"If I could bet, I'd put my odds on you, Rowan. A great training score, strong, talented, likeable, you're an ideal victor, you know that, Rowan." It was great being complimented by the hostess. The interview was going great, I just needed to scare them into sponsoring me. "Are you aware of Rhymer's relationship with her mentor?"

"Relationship..." I definently did not know about that. Why did she never tell me? "No, truthfully, I just thought she liked him he was flirting with her, but a real relationship...no."

This was going downwards. I needed something to excite them. But just like that, the buzzer went off, and I was finished for.

_-Lacette Phogan-_

"Why don't we talk about your family, Lacette?" Oh no. The very question I'd been avoiding the whole time. There was no way out of this one.

The problem was, I couldn't tell them about my family without either lying or giving away the word of the prostitution business. "My father died when I was a baby," I fibbed. "I live with my mom and brother, my mom works as a fabric seller in the Capitol."

"Oh, you poor girl. You must miss your father very much." Actually, none of that was true. My parents were divorced, and I didn't miss my father. I heard he got a job in the Capitol, but I wasn't sure where, and didn't care either.

"Yes, I miss him very much." I shed fake tears for the sake of the audience. They wiped away tears as well as I told a fake sob story. "He was the best father anyone could ever have. Gentle, kind, strong. He died battling a fever three years ago."

I looked out into the crowds, but my eyes met someone I faintly recognized. Wasn't he the head gamemaker, or something like that? Alexander, I think his name was. He had seats in the front, just barely off a meter from me. I felt like I knew him from somewhere, but couldn't pin where. The scariest part about him was that he was staring right at me.

Rilanna began to sniffle sadly and put her arms around me. "You poor child! You're a hero, so brave to live all these years without him."

The buzzer went off, cutting off my only chance at winning, and giving me the final chance to win.

I walked through the curtains and sat back on my seat. "Excuse me, Lacette, but may I have a word with you?" I knew by instinct, that it was him.

"What do you want?" I asked. "Who are you?"

"Don't you know me? I'm a gamemaker. I have to talk to you about something you'd find interesting."

"What?" What did he want with me? I barely even knew him.

"It's about your interview. What you said about your father?"

"What about him?" I wasn't the slightest bit interested. My father left my life years ago, without a word. I didn't care if he was dead or alive.

"I know where he is."

_-Lissa Dragomir-_

What would you do if you were in my situation, lie, cheat, steal, or tell the the truth? I chose the last option, my trump card to make an impression.

"Lissa, can you tell the audience about your life in district eleven?" Rilanna and I had agreed to this, because I wasn't getting too much attention or sponsors. She would help me for free. I just needed to not mess this up.

"I don't think district eleven can be described in so many words, Rilanna." The exact phrase I practiced out. Now, everything else was improvision. There were dangerous things I'd be revealing to Panem very soon, enough to get a couple people killed for it.

"Every morning, I wake up at the crack of dawn, dress as soon as my eyes clear up, and sneak out from the clearing where the electric fence is covered in foliage. There actually is no fence there, jus the broken outline of one. I jump the trees over the fence. The trees are so closely clumped together that I can just jump from tree to tree with no worry of falling, because of the heavy vines underneath."

"I grab my bow and quiver of arrows from hidden under a muddy crag on the cliffs. I string a single arrow onto the bow, check my snares for caught animals, then listen." The audience was totally mesmerized by my voice. "I listen for at least an hour a day, sometimes, I even spend the whole day just listening, not even hunting at all."

"Then, if I hear the sound of suitable prey, I climb up into the trees and listen some more. I jump from tree to tree to the sound of movement, until I'm barely above it. If it's a good size, I throw a knife into it's head. If it's too large for me to kill, I use my bow."

"After that, I collect my kills into the game bag and run home at exactly noon." This was the tough part, the kind we lived with daily. "I live in a two-room shack with six other people. Two of the children living in the house can't go to school or play with other children because they have to constantly work. My brother can't marry the girl he loves because he has to work to support us. My mother abandoned us many years ago, and my father was executed by trying to steal some food for us." There was total silence over the Capitol, and I suspected over the districts too.

"Everyday in our district, someone is dragged off and executed or severely punished. Just months ago, I witnessed a young child, just ten, be shot to death because he lagged in fruit-picking. His family had seven children, and he was the youngest and most adored my his parents. Imagine how they felt when they found out the light of their life was shot to death."

"We're the only district that is taxed. No one in the other districts knows it, but we are. We are barely fed enough to survive, and taxed and made to pay rent fees as well. That is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth." I stood up without Rilanna's permission, and walked away, suddenly ending the interview.

It had gone better than I thought.

_-Morning-Glory Stark-_

I wasn't sure how to top the district eleven girl's interview. She left the audience totally stunned (Literally) without another word. There wasn't much content in mine. "Pleasant day, isn't it, Morning-Glory?" she asked me first.

"Yes it is, but you should really call me Mo." See? It was going pleasantly, until she asked me "the question".

"As we all know, volunteers for your district are rather...uncommon, and you didn't volunteer for any particular reason. So tell our audience, why did you volunteer."

I stared into the assemblage of people looking me on. My mouth was parched. I wish I had something to drink before I went onstage. What as I supposed to say? It wasn't a yes or no question, there wasn't a definite answer.

But just like that, I realized. I realized that I didn't know why. Why had I volunteered? I didn't volunteer for a legacy or for another person, the typical reasons. I volunteered for myself, if that makes any sense. "I...I..."

"Is it something you'd rather not talk about?" I nodded like an idiot but the buzzer went off. Just one question, and it had taken up the entire interivew! Rilanna appeared disappointed, but said nothing and went back to closing up the ceremony.

I was a failure. An utter and complete failure. I left the stage with tears on my face, too shamed to show them. I hid in the closet, until Clivia came and told me it was time to go. "Come on, Mo," she said. It was awful to be helped by someone years younger than me, yet stronger and more stable.

She walked with me to my level, tucked me into bed, and stayed until I fell asleep. She was like a little guardian, but so fragile as well. Like a glass angel.

That night, I dreamed about home.

_-Alouette Mend-_

At about 3:00am, I gave up on trying to fall asleep and decided to sneak out and wait the night through. There were no locks on our doors and the elevator was still functional at night, so I snuck out through the district nine floor, and to the elevator.

Riding the elevator at night was a truly horrible experience. At dark, the glass became invisible, and it appeared I was plummeting to the ground. I was struck by vertigo and had to cling to the walls to avoid feeling nauseous. Finally, the ride was over, and I stepped onto solid ground. I decided that it would be nice to visit the garden before I left. The gardens were outside, but heavy shielded by forcefields. A blast of cold air met my skin when I opened the door.

There was a dark shape moving in the shadow of night. It sat itself on a concrete bench just beyond the lamp's light. "Wade? Is that you?"

His crutch was leaned on the side of the bench. "Sit next to me. I get lonely out here, late at night." He patted the empty space next to him.

I moved to sit with him. "The flowers are pretty at night," he said. "Especially the daisies. We had a lot of daisies back at home in district twelve, but none as pretty as the Capitol mutations. These smell better and have a silvery sheen to them. What flowers do you like?"

"I like Alpine asters, but they only grow in the mountains. I've seen one only once." He wasn't making any eye contact with me, so I asked the real question on my mind. "Wade, are you angry at me?"

"What could _I_ possibly be angry at you for?" His tone was sardonic and cruel, so unlike the person I'd known.

"Wade..." I put my hand on his shoulder, only to have it shoved off. "Please don't be mad at me."

"I've thought about jumping before." He clenched his fists and stared as dark as the night itself.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, jumping from the roof, suicide. I've thought about it before. It would be another pain for the Capitol to handle, and I could be happy with that. But I realized it didn't matter how I did it, was going to die. Whether I die or not, I won't be whole. And no one can fix my leg to the way it was before." I saw then, that he was really crying.

"I just want to be a normal person again. I want people to stop staring at my stub. I want to go to school and stop worrying about being reaped, or running out of food, or being injured again in a mining accident." I knew then, what happened to him. He must've been injured somehow in a mining accident, and had to have his leg amputated, or he had it blasted off in the explosion.

"I know how you feel," I said, although it wasn't completely true.

"What do you know, Alouette? That you left me for your own good. I wanted to help you, but you..." He faltered to find the right words, but gave up on it. Instead, he rose on his crutch to leave.

"Why do you always seem to abandon me when I want you and come back when it's too late? Why?" He stood before me, taking out his anger this way. "I give up. Just leave me alone and let me be!"

"Wait, Wade!" I reached out to him, but he was beyond my consoling now. Once again, I was alone.

* * *

**I did it because of your negative response to Alouette leaving the boy behind. The next chapter is the flippin' bloodbath. Here are the alliances. They will change, and I will constantly update them.**

Alliance 1 (7 people!)  
Rowan Fightheart  
Dustin Shackles  
Mako Dorrel  
Brynna Blythe  
Holden Wise  
Nilo Laurence  
Lissa Dragomir

Alliance 2  
Diego Orozco  
Anna Bloom  
Rhymer Wellwood  
Alouette Mend

Alliance 3  
Juniper Oihane  
Dayni Graze

Alliance 4  
Morning-Glory Stark  
Clivia Muse

Loners  
Annabelle Winters  
Clivia Muse  
Luka Messire  
Josef Haiden  
Lacette Phogan  
Sorren Torriali  
Lawson Moren  
Wade Halloway


	21. Day one

Day 1: Bloodbaths and REAL baths

_-Rhymer Wellwood-_

"So am I your girlfriend now?" They had changed me into the arena outfit, a black shirt and trousers made of tough, plastic-like material, a heat-conserving jacket, and running shoes. I hid my locket cleverly under the folds of the shirt, so only I could see it. The clothes were comfortable and custom-fitted, so they were easy to run in.

"I guess, but I'll admit, you're not the first," Blaise said, resting his head on my shoulder. He really wasn't supposed to be here; he was supposed to be in the control center, with the other mentors, but insisted he see me before I was launched.

"I didn't think so." My hands were laid on his back, as he held my body in an embrace. "But that's behind us now. You have to worry about losing your new girlfriend, and you can leave the inner struggle to find humanity and survival to me."

He looked up, as if he was afraid of someone hearing, then leaned so his lips were close to my ear, and whispered, "When you get the package, I want you to hide it. Don't let anyone see or touch it. Both of out lives are on the line. But if you have a chance at winning, I guess it's worth it."

"What are you talking about?" He pulled away from my touch, and an announcement over the loudspeaker came on, saying for the tributes to enter the launch pods. He pushed me into it, and it slammed shut. "Wait!" I yelled through the glass. "What package? What do you mean?"

He couldn't hear me. I slammed my hands on the glass, desperate to reach him, fighting away at the five-inch layer of glass seperating us. "Blaise! Can you hear me?"

The tight pod shuddered once, then began to move. A sickening feeling washed over my body as instead of the pod rising like it should, it _sank._

_-Anna Bloom-_

"Diego! Where are you!" In the tunnel, all I could hear was the echoes of people yelling. This was going horribly wrong. The pod had lowered to the underground, and I had landed in the end of a tunnel, standing on the metal starting plate. Raw earth covered the ceiling, walls and floor. My worst nightmare. I grew living with wide open spaces, but this...

The tunnels made most likely a maze through the ground. But where was the cornucopia? Who knew if there even was a cornucopia?

"Hello, tributes," said a loud voice coming from the walls. Wasn't that the hostess, Rilanna? "Welcome to the arena. My name is Rilanna Remark, and I will be your guide to the games today."

"Many of you have questions," she continued. "But I will try to answer all of them. I greet you to our arena. It is a three-dimensional underground maze filled with false exits and poorly light tunnels. You have five minutes to try and reach the surface before the maze collapses on itself. Those who do not escape within the time limit will be buried under ten feet of rock and dirt. The cornucopia is located right above the surface. Those who reach it first get the best picks, the last have to manage with what's left. Thank you for your time, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

_60, 59, 58..._

"Diego! Are you there?" I yelled into the tunnel. Silence. What will I do? What if I can't find him? What if we don't make it out? Time is so scarce...

_40, 39, 38..._

I coudn't do it. My head was spinning, and my eyes couldn't adjust the darkness of the tunnel. Maybe I could follow someone else to the surface...but what it lead to a dead end? And I couldn't hear Diego anywhere. It was like they'd muffled our voices on purpose...

_20, 19, 18..._

I crouched down low, ready to run when the gong went off. "Diego!" I cried out desperately, ready to give up. "Where are you?"

_3, 2, 1..._

The gong striked once, and I moved into action. Weaving back and forth through the tunnel, feeling my way out. The mud lining the walls was slick and dripping wet with salt water. Salt water...

"Anna! I hear you!" The voice came like a miracle. It was Diego! "Yell so I can find your voice!"

I breathed to reply, but instead, someone else yelled, "I'm here!"

"No, Diego, I'm here. I'm Anna!" Water was seeping through the floor... the maze was going to flood in, if I didn't get out, and quick.

_Smack!_ My outreached hand slapped against the cold skin and jacket. The intruder cried out in pain, then retreated. "Anna! Is that you?" I had found Diego! But where were Rhymer and Alouette? "Anna, I'm right here. Hold my hand, I know the way out."

A tight and watery fist closed around my palm, then urged me forwards, as the tunnel sloped up. It came to an end at a ladder leading up. Diego climbed up first, then helped me up, and it was good he did so fast. The first level was already filled up to the waist.

The water was shockingly cold and salty, worse than being stuck underground. "We're almost there!" he exclaimed, as I watched dark shapes move through the tunnels in frightening unison, all reaching for the same ladder. I grasped hold of the soggy edge and pulled myself to the incoming light. I, Anna, was going to survive.

_-Malia Saunders-_

I was first to reach the surface. I knew because the cornucopia was bustling full. This was going perfectly. The arena was a heavily forested map, surrounded with lakes, valleys, and a giant mountain that stood in the center of it all. It thought then, that it would be an excellent place to go. The mountain was the last place anyone would ever think of going, so surely everyone would go there, right?

I ran right past the cornucopia, grabbing two packs and a set of three knives. I could live off the mountain animals and there'd be plenty of food in the packs to eat.

I'd make enough distance today to cover a quarter of the mountain. I has built up enough bulk and weight to support myself for several days without food, but that didn't seem to be the case today.

The thing that blinded me from the truth that I couldn't hunt at all or climb very well was the fact that I was close to winning, just on day one. I wanted so badly, in extreme terms, to show my parents that I was good enough to win the games, and I didn't need them anymore.

I decided it would be better if I walked up the mountain instead of climbing, so I slung the packs over my shoulder, slipped the knives into my belt, and ran at a super-human speed, with the clouds long behind me.

_-Dustin Shackles-_

"Take my hands!" Only three of us were still underground, at least as far as I knew. Water had flooded the first and almost the second layers totally, drenching me in foul-smelling liquid. Nilo and Brynna had gotten lost, so I had to go back down and search for them, while the others raided the cornucopia and headed north, to our agreed campsite.

Just beyond reach by a fingertip was Brynna, pushing through the rising water. We were almost at the third level and to the surface, but Nilo was holding us behind. His face was agitated, like he'd forgotten to do something important. "Just take my hands already and let me push you along!" I howled.

He snapped back to reality, helped Brynna get up the ladder to the third floor, then hoisted himself up too. "Almost there, buddy. Just cross the third floor straight and you'll find the exit ladder, " I instructed. They ran as I told them to, and I supposed they made it there.

It was good that they had, because th second level was almost filled to the top. "Help!" someone cried. I looked down the hole, and there was a small girl there, her foot tangled in the ladder, and struggling for air.

_Should I do something? _I think. What would have been the right thing, save myself, or help her? It was congenital for me to save myself, and think, _What does one person's life mean to me? _

Isn't that what they want us to think? To think that we are all only small bits and pieces of an act of greatness? So should I, or not? What voice should I have listened to? Because, I really only heard person speak. Not my father or the president telling me what to do. Myself.

"Give me your hand," I said to her. She reached out, and took hold. I raised her up on the ladder, let her untangle the ladder, then we dashed to the exit, just as time was running out. She gesticulated to the light, wanting me to go first, but I pushed her ahead. "No, you go first."

She jumbled up the ladder, and disappeared into the light. It guess it was just me left in the maze.

I pinched my fingers around the gold coin stamped with the words, "Victor", and tossed it into the muddy water, my father's prized token, and now or used to be, mine. "Sorry, dad," I whispered. "But I'm not playing your game anymore."

I scampered to the ladder, and didn't look back, not feeling a lick of remorse.

_-Juniper Oihane-_

"You get the supplies, I'll hold off anyone in the way." Dayni and I were last to get to the top, and left with only a pack and two knives. We were both soaking wet.

I looked back into the maze opening, but there was no one inside anymore, or at least I thought. The ladder had fallen from the moisture of the rising water. Except for that boy...

_5..._

"Help!" he yelled. "Someone, help me up!" The boy from district eleven was stuck at the exit, with no ladder to get up for. Only five seconds before the maze collapsed...

_4..._

"Grab my hand!" He was too far away for me to reach him. "Hurry! Reach for my hand!" I reached out dangerously far to get to him.

_3..._

His fingers were too slick for me to get a hold on. I leaned on more, until I was close to falling in myself. I finally got hold of his hand, but couldn't find the strength to pull him up. His feet skidded against the walls of the maze. He was nearly there...

_2..._

No! I dropped him! He crashed into the rapidly rising water, but there was nothing I could do anymore.

_1..._

A mesh screen slid in place, cutting off the way out of the maze. "Juniper!" he screamed in an animal-like voice. He knew my name? I'd failed...I'd really failed this time. Why couldn't I do it right?

Water filled up to the top. He fought for air, but his lungs only absorbed more water. A small tear slid down my cheek. "I'm sorry," I breathed. "I'm sorry." The earth under me trembled, then it was done.

"Juniper?" Dayni asked. "Are you ready to go?"

She tossed me a knife, and I caught it. Dayni pressed her hands on my shoulder and said, "Come on. It's time to move on. We have a long, long, way ahead of us." She slung her arm around my shoulder, and I knew, I needed to pick up the pieces of my life and move on.

_-Mako Dorrel-_

"Get the kind thats dry and crackly, and falls apart when you rub it," Dustin explained. "They're easy enough to find snagged on other branches or on the forest floor."

"I think I get it," I said, and fished a long twig buried in a pile of crackly leaves out. Dry, crackly, and tough. But would it be enough for firewood? I took an armful more, and carried it back to the clearing we declared camp. The girls were setting up the shelter and sleeping bags, while Dustin "supervised" and Rowan, I had no idea what he was doing. Nilo had disappeared off somewhere, but no one really cared where he went.

I grabbed a match from the supply stack and scraped the top on a rock. I tossed the tiny stick into the campfire and it lit off, turning on our campfire. Night was rising, and we were far and large enough to avoid a night raids. I sat closest to the fire, feeling the instant heat given off. The flames flickered and dancing, throwing off the occasional spark. Nilo had returned, and we all gathered around the fire.

Smoke from the fire went up my nose, and I felt my vision blur. My eyes were so watery...I couldn't see anything. Dustin suddenly stood in alarm and kicked out the fire. "Why did you do that?" I asked in desperation. Until I finally noticed that the people who breathed the smoke were coughing out their lungs.

"Mako? Where did you get the wood?" Brynna asked. Her eyes were filled with tears, not from emotion but from the smoke.

"I just found it near these pink flowers, I don't remember! What's wrong?" I cried. I couldn't be my fault...I just did what I was told.

"It must've been a toxic wood. Mako, you couldn't killed us all!" Brynna was now blaming me for their problems. I didn't know! It wasn't my fault. "Great job. Now we're cold and poisoned."

I slid into the sleeping bag and hid my head. Why did Brynna bother me so much? Why did she hate me? But sometimes, questions are never answered, until you're near death.

**I am flippin' sorry that I haven't updated in FOREVER. I am working on a 24 tributes, 24 authors collaboration projection on Fanfiction, called Thirteen, by jakey121. It is an awesome story, you should go and read it right now! I'm serious. I will make a list of survivors and their conditions on the next chapter. I am leaving on Thursday for a vaction, so I will not return for three weeks. Later, people. :)**

**-Iris**


	22. Day two

**I'm back everyone! **

**This means that I'll be updating often, at least once a week, and I won't sound so rushed like the last chapter. I'm writing another story too, on top of this, so it'll be another challenge. Feel free to look at that one, and maybe submit a tribute? :)**

Day Two- It only gets worse, friend. PART 1

_-Rowan Fightheart-_

No one obviously knows how important I am. I had to take leadership when Dustin was stuck in the maze, waiting for someone to help him, so we wouldn't die out in the wilderness. I did that. I stayed half-awake all night so that whoever was on night guard wouldn't doze off and doom the rest of us. They're now being ungrateful for all I've done, by saying I'm not doing anything. I told them, I'm managing their day duties, so no one does anything stupid.

"Where did that kid from 3 go?" What an idiot. I can't believe Dustin would let him into the alliance. All he does is wander aimlessly like he's looking or someone. He's first on my kill list.

"Let Nilo be. He's not doing anything threatening, alright? So let him go. He does what he needs to," Dustin says. I'm fed up with Dustin, and his million-miles of patience. He can't tell me what to do. Just because he's self-appointed leader or something doesn't mean that he controls who lives and dies. "Besides, what are you doing? You could be of some use and start gathering food."

"I told you, I'm managing all of you! Do you think that's easy?" I lifted myself up and tried to restrain myself from throttling him. "I do all the work here, looking after you and your dumb family of kids, and you think I'm not doing enough? Well? Or are you still jealous about my score of 11?"

That made his face go red, and ripe-tomato red. "I was never jealous about your score, okay? I never for one moment was. Where did that even come from? Just because _you _had an 11 doesn't mean you're supreme to the rest of us. If you think you're so great, why don't you try to survive by yourself? I'm sure it would be easy for someone as great as you."

"I wouldn't have to live by myself, because everyone would be taking my side." I shoved my palms against his dirty little shirt, but he didn't budge. "Well? Who's side would they take? Mine or yours?"

When he said nothing, I moved forwards, so he could smell my breath and know I'm telling the flat truth. "Since it's obvious that you're alone, buddy, I'd suggest that you leave. Or would you like to see your little friends dead?"

"I'm with Dustin!" Brynna cried out and moved to stand next to him. I guess it didn't really matter, since I just needed Holden and Mako with me. He could have his little group of losers and freaks by himself.

The next thing that happened was unexpected. "If Brynna is with Dustin, I'm with him too," Mako announced, then tried to stand with Brynna, but it only agitated her.

"What the heck, Mako? Stop trying to follow me!" She pushed him away, but he kept his eyes on her.

"And you?" I growled to Holden. His eyes grew large and somehow, he got the message. If he didn't side with me, he'd be dead. Meekly, he stood next to me. "I guess that splits it. You can have your little friends with you, so you won't be so lonely when I cut off your head, and I'' have Holden, who's more valuable that them, anyway."

"Is this a peaceful parting?" Dustin asked. I nodded. No need for deaths this early in the games. There was plenty of time for that later. He tossed me a pack and my sword. "Though I'm not really supposed to say this, good luck. Hope you don't starve to death. That would mean I wouldn't get to kill you later."

I smiled and waved to my former allies. "May the odds be _ever_ in your favor," I said, complete with the Capitol accent. "Victory is short, but legend is forever."

I wasn't upset, not by the tiniest. Though I was probably walking into a death trap, with little food and water, I knew I'd be alright.

I had a plan.

_-Brynna Blythe-_

"Now I'm stuck with you again. For the third time," I grumbled, then opened our two packs. We would have water from the river, and I could fish or gather. Enough to survive, if Nilo didn't disappear again.

Oddly enough, the bushes began to shake as he pushed his way back to camp. His clothes were tattered, there were cuts and bruises on his legs, he was a total mess. He looked like he'd just ran here. "It's an emergency!" he cried out. "You can't see it now, but the river is rising, and we need to get to higher ground. Really!"

I ignored him, but Dustin rushed to him and asked, "What do you mean? Why is the river rising?"

Then disaster struck. There was sort of a buzzing noise, not like _buzz _but like _hum hum hum. _"What was that?" I asked, just before the cold water hit my face and made everything spin in circles.

* * *

"Brynna!" Everything was a blur. Trees falling, screams, and water everywhere. My arms were around a rock, firmly planted in the ground, but threatened to wash away. Flash floods. We had them in 4, but none as this unexpected. There usually warning signs, storm clouds, noise, falling trees. This was a gamemaker creation.

"I'm here," I wheezed tiredly to the trees. Dustin, Mako, and Nilo were pushing themselves up, with their rudimentary climbing skills. My body temperate was lowering. if I spent any longer in this water, I'd die. Mako was coming down...but why? He reached out of me, and I realized he was trying to save me. Why?

"Take my hand!" he yelled over the floodwaters, and took hold. Slowly, he pulled me in closer, until I could reach the tree. My arms wrapped around it's massive trunk, but I was too weak to pull myself up. Nilo and Dustin climbed down and pulled me up, until I was high enough to sit on a branch.

My legs were white, and not just plain white. Bluish-white, and freezing cold. I could barely feel them. "Well, we just lost all our supplies. Won't that be fun?" Dustin wheezed tiredly, and slumped against the trunk. I'm still, today, piecing together what really happened. Mako pulled a blanket over my legs, and the feeling started to come back.

Then I realized it. Mako had saved me _again. _"Why did you save me?" I demanded him. I didn't need help! I could manage on my own!" Lies are disgusting. My stomach flips when I see the corpse drifting in the water. An unlucky person, caught off guard by the flood. What could've been me. It probably would've been. "No. Mako...thanks. For...everything."

For the first time, I saw him smile. Not a flirty or deceitful one. A true smile. "You're welcome."

Which was very, very bad.

-_Diego Orozco-_

We'd chosen a high area to camp in, so the flood never touched us. Anna and I took hands, and we watched the wreck of it. The fallen trees, the muddy silt left behind. It was still beautiful. But different.

Night was a dangerous times to be around. With a waterproof tent and two sleeping bags, we could survive through the worst storms. It was decided that Anna and I would use the tent, while Rhymer and Alouette would sleep in the bags.

Rhymer was voted for night duty. She was a night owl, one of those people that stayed up late and woke up late. I was worried that some of us wouldn't make it through the arena, but we managed.

The tent was all weather-resistant, but the path was bumpy and rock-riddled. I laid extra layers over Anna, so she wouldn't be so cold, and laid close to her. It made me think of when we were little kids, and when one our parents couldn't pay rent, we'd sleep with the other, snuggled close like puppies to stay warm on winter nights.

"Good night, she said, and laid down to sleep. She looked beautiful, even when she has thorn scars on her legs, old bruises, and mud in her hair. Anna was still Anna. I wanted to do something sweet, like kiss her goodnight, but my heart was beating faster than normal, and I hadn't slept next to her in a long time.

"Wait, Anna." I laid on hand her shoulder. "I want...I want to talk while we're alone. It's about our friendship."

"Yes?" She sat up, and leaned on my shoulder. My hand moved to stroke her hair, but I'm not of the type to do that.

"Anna..." I paused to take a breath before I asked the real question. "Do you think of me as a friend? Or...or as a boyfriend?"

"A boyfriend?" Her cheeks flushed pink. "I've never really thought of you like that...but I guess now that we're older, I could. I mean...if you want to."

This was highly unnatural behavior for Anna, who gave one straight answer, and saw only black and white. I should've said, I'd like that, but instead, I actually said, "Are you kidding me? I've been in love with you for years." I shut my mouth. I hate it when I say dumb things.

"You did?" Her eyes went buggy, like she'd just realized that. "I'm sorry...I-I just realized that. How did I not see it coming?" She cursed herself for not knowing, then did something really unexpected. She leaned over, and kissed my cheek. I may only describe it some words: It was warm.

I laid next to her and let my eyes shut close. that was enough for a day. It was uneventful. We scavenged for food, set up camp, and prepared for an attack. My forehead was feverish, and I pressed it against Anna's. She closed her eyes, and it seemed like things were still normal.

No one mentioned the Hunger games.

_-Rhymer Wellwood-_

If I get killed, who do I blame?

I miss Blaise, by a thousand times more than I should. I miss his cozy presence, telling me I'll be alright, and a ton of other lies. I didn't exactly pick up what he said at the reaping, but I can tell it won't be good. Stealing something?

My sleeping was is about a million degrees, so I slept on top of it. The stars were quite pretty, especially when you could see the Capitol seal right next to them. One death. Is that all they can do?

**Bold= deceased**

_Italics= injured or diseased_

Dustin Shackles

_Annabelle Winters- Scrape on __arm_

Rowan Fightheart

Rhymer Wellwood

Nilo Laurence

Clivia Muse

Mako Dorrel

_Brynna Blythe- Hypothermia_

**Bloodbath -Killed by Rowan **

Dayni Graze

Diego Orozco

Anna Bloom

**Bloodbath-Killed by Mako Dorrel**

Juniper Oihane

_Sorren Torriali- Sword wound on back_

Lacette Phogan

**Lawson Moren- Drowned during flood**

Alouette Mend

Holden Wise

Malia Saunders

**Bloodbath- Killed by Dayni Graze**

Lissa Dragomir

**Bloodbath-Trapped in maze**

Morning-Glory Stark

**Something awful is going to happen in the next chapter, so be prepared. This is Part 1. Though the sun has set, and it looks like tomorrow will be a normal day...think again.**


	23. A Gamemaker's troubles

**Yes. This is the chapter where I rise from the dead and finally update. I have not abandoned you guys, or this story. I swear. I WILL NEVER ABANDON THIS STORY. I've been working on five other projects at the same time as this, and kind of devoid of ideas. This is what being a procrastinator looks like.**

**I'm so tired today that this is the best I can give you for now. I am demoralized and my will to write is slowly crumbling. I have SO much work to do today, and every other day of my life. I spent months working on this one chapter, and it still feels wrong. It probably makes no sense at all. You probably hate me. The feeling is mutual.**

**Sorry. Feel free to cheer me up.*lowers head in shame***

* * *

My name is Alexander Hastings and I have the best and worst job in the world.

There's a lot you can say about being a head Gamemaker. First of all, you get the best food. It all goes onto the President's tab, and she doesn't acknowledge any of our expenses, as long as the Capitol views stay consistent. Naturally. We also get luxury suites in a sleek steel tower in the heart of the Capitol. Just lovely. As long as you show up for the drab meetings and contribute at least 10% to the final product of the Games, it's the ideal life for the middle-aged man.

Of course, there are always two sides to every story. Two sides to the spectrum, of good and bad. Does that make sense? Being a Gamemaker stretches from the nearest thing to perfection, to...well, I'm not going to say it.

If you want to know how I got here, I'll have to go back. Way back. To a time when White wasn't president. To a time when the Games were so radical and extremist that even some nice chaps in the Capitol argued in favor of humanity. We didn't have a lot of that back then.

The day I became interested in becoming a Gamemaker was probably the best and worst day of my life. I was a nobody from District 7. The fifth son of a lumberjack, and desperate to get away from home. Anywhere. Even pathetic District 12 would've been a solution back then.

Then, everything changed when President White took power. She was a popular president, one that reduced debts for wealthy politicians and investors to gain their favor, and a tyrant. When most people think of a tyrant, they imagine a middle-aged power hungry man rubbing his hands together in filthy greed. A pickpocket. A cheat. A liar.

Not quite so.

This new President was a pretty young lady, a widow, that nobody doubted would stay unmarried for long. I could write a list of her possible suitors, men that wanted her wealth and power. The only problem was that she had no interest in marrying. She had other intentions. Intentions that I would not mention here if I wished to live to tomorrow.

Anyway, we're going off topic here. As you noted, this is my turn to speak, about _myself_.

I've had a very harsh and unrewarding life, many unhappy marriages and divorces over a span of fifteen years, as I married my first wife fifteen years ago. My wives were all vicious, manipulative women that robbed me of every last penny I owned. Seductresses! The she-demons only wanted my hard-earned money. But Savannah, my Savannah was different.

The first time Savannah and I starting working on the project together, she was a poor music teacher born in the Districts, and a long-time friend. She was also three months pregnant. And unmarried.

President White was the one that hired me, years ago. She said that she trusted a creative fellow like me, one that made a fortune from scrap. I was grateful, after losing everything to my last wife and the expenses that came with the divorce. What she didn't tell me then was that she had also executed all the former Gamemakers that the last president had hired. _Five, _she said, sweetly. _I only need five Gamemakers, especially since money is scarce this time of year. Wouldn't you be a dear and show me how ingenious you and four others can be? _

Savannah and I made a deal; I'd provide her with support money for her baby and she would be my secretary. The one that would organize my papers and arrange meetings and all the meticulous work I don't care to do. Somewhere along the way we fell in love. Maybe it was the way she smiled at me whenever she heard my voice. Maybe it was the way she leaned on my shoulder and yawned like a cat whenever she was tired. Maybe it was her herself, the brunette, round and warm with someone else's baby.

We were married in the Spring. It was probably the happiest day of my life.

Savannah had her baby. She was a beautiful girl, that we named Maeve. It was love at first sight, even when she wasn't my baby. As the child grew inside of Savannah, I pretended that her baby was also mine. I lied to myself. I was devastated when the truth hit me, the obvious truth, that this girl, the baby I wanted so desperately to be mine, was never. I have green eyes, rich green eyes that are the pride of District 7. My wife has blue. Maeve had brown, like her true father's. If only they were green.

I can be gullible too, stupid.

I've never wanted children, before Maeve was born. Sometimes, I wondered if I did have other children, from my previous marriages. It could be possible. There could be dozens of fatherless boys and girls with my green eyes. The thought sends a chill up my spine. _What if?_

I'm not even going to touch on that girl from District 8, Lacette. I wish that I could say for sure that she is not my child. I believe I know who her father is, but I don't believe she'd like to know him. She is an anomaly, something that should not even exist. I do not remember her mother, the woman with huge light eyes and light hair, that says her own daughter's name like a curse. I do not know the boy she holds at her side, with an intensity that I do not recognize.

However, I do know this girl. And eerily enough, I do not know why.

If only, she did not have such beautiful green eyes.

* * *

The President

"Oh, Alexander, please come in."

"It nearly slipped my mind. That's a lovely suit, by the way. I expect Capitol-grade silk, correct? You're looking rather...fresh."

"Never mind that," he snapped at me. "I have to show you something."

I raised one finely-plucked eyebrow. "What may that be?"

He pulled a drive from his jacket pocket and jabbed it into the side of the screen behind me. It blinked a glaring white light once, then opened a menu screen. On it were the files "Unedited scenes", "Blueprints", and "Usable Blackmail." I blinked once to make sure I was seeing things right. "Excuse me, but what exactly is inside 'Usable Blackmail'? And why do you put all your data on one file?"

"It's nothing," he lied. "The file's empty. I swear it is. And I've made three copies of the drives, all hidden." He touched the file labeled "Unedited scenes". It opened up to three 20 hour long features, representing each passing day, and clicked on Day three.

He fast-forwarded until the cameras were set to night vision. There was that girl from District two, Rhymer, and she was staring at the sky, long after her allies had fallen asleep. The cameras moved with her, following her to the silver sponsor parachute. She tore the canister open and dumped out it's contents. A small paper package and water bottle. Inside of the package was an envelope, a drive, and two discs. No...it couldn't be. I must truly be seeing things.

"Stop the clip," I ordered Alexander. "Now, zoom into the discs."

It was just as I suspected. Written in blurred black letters, were the words "Illegal recordings." The other one only said "Part two". My stomach tightened at the thought that someone had been in my office, and stealing my things.

"What do you think?" Alexander finally asked. "Treason? Theft? Do you want me to issue a search?"

"No. We don't even know who might have sent those." I clicked open a file drawer and looked through the alphabetically listed discs. Missing. Someone had stolen them, for sure. "We don't know if the girl was involved in it. I don't think so. She's safe for now."

Alexander clicked his tongue. "Who approves the sponsors for security checks? Isn't there someone to do that?" he asked.

"You do, stupid."

He seemed irritated, clearly by my last comment. "Well, no one ever tells me stuff like that. It would've prevented this, you know." He fiddled his thumbs nervously. "The mentors are the ones that approve the sponsors themselves. But if it was one of them, why?"

"You know what's on those discs?"

He nodded nervously. Everyone got nervous around the "uncomfortable" topics, like my family, my last marriage, and anything involving the time before I became president. It's funny how everyone called me President White, when our government was a totalitarian dictatorship. I've done a lot of bad things in my life. I married too young, and the wrong person. I hurt everyone that was close to me, then murdered them one-by-one when they failed to be of use. "You know I killed my husband?" I calmly asked Alexander.

He paused for a moment, thinking of a snappy response. "Maybe. How_ did_ you kill him? Poison?"

"I used a pillow to suffocate him."

Alexander smiled smartly. "Clever. Did you record that on those discs?"

"Maybe," I vented back. "There's much more on there though, things I'd rather not speak of this moment. It's like the blackmail you plan to use someday against me. As long as she has the discs and drive, I can't touch her. That's what that person wants. To make sure she wins."

"What blackmail?" he innocently crooned. I opened a file with the names and addresses of all the mentors. District two- Blaise Hales. Fair enough.

"Put him in confinement until further investigation can be done." I slammed the file shut, waiting for Alexander to respond. "Excuse me, Mr. Hastings, but that was an order."

He squinted funnily at me. "What about the girl then? She still has the discs and knows very clearly what's on them. What if word get out? It would be a disaster for your reputation!"

I rolled my eyes. These Gamemakers could be so clueless. Sometimes, it was funny, but at others, it was just obnoxious. "You will do what I tell you to with the mentor, and about the girl, she's not a lot of trouble to take care of, but you'll do to her what I've done to every other bothersome tribute."

"And what would that be?"

I smiled pleasantly. My patience was running out. "Very funny. You'll dispose of her, naturally."

His mouth dropped so low, it could have hit the floor. "You mean, kill her?"

* * *

Alexander Hastings

So here we are again. I suppose that you're getting used to me here, aren't you?

I hope not.

My hands were cold and clammy over the envelope-containing-life-changing-information. This is what I'd been waiting weeks to get. The results of the tests.

One hair from me, one from her, was all that was needed. I had to know for sure. If she was mine, everything I'd worked to earn in this new life would disappear. And it would only be my fault. If she wasn't- well, not my problem anymore. My life could go back to normal.

I fumbled over the little letter opener on my desk. Why was it so slippery? These things were sharp enough to shave with! I quickly gave up and ripped the top open instead. Envelopes were so old-fashioned, but they insisted that it was the most secure way to deliver results. Except I didn't need security; I needed reassurance.

I began to read.

The results were negative.

Which meant Lacette Phogan was not in fact my daughter.

Which meant she was expendable.

Which meant I could kill her any moment now.


End file.
